


Between There and Now

by Kei (strawberryjambouree)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Healing, Healthy Relationships, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Emotional and Sexual Abuse, Polyamory, Rating subject to change, Secrets, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Summer Vacation, seijou third years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:25:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8769898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberryjambouree/pseuds/Kei
Summary: "It'll be our last hurrah," Makki had said. Just the four of them, up in a cabin in the mountains, before they would have to tear away from each other for university. Before they would start to fade around the edges of each other's memories, existing solely in liminal spaces.That's the thing about this "last hurrah," though. Once you take away the noise and blur of everything that used to surround someone, they become sharp, hyper focused. You start noticing every little thing about them. You start realizing things about them that you'd never have noticed before, hairline cracks in their masks of perfection, tiny hiccups in their personalities.And sometimes you fall in love with them. —A summertime story of learning to love again.





	1. IWAIZUMI: Arrival pt. 1

The road beneath the tires is nothing but rocks, the fizzing hum of shitty pop music lost to the crunch and roll of gravel under rubber. The old car steadily climbs the mountain path, framed on both sides by dusty green pine trees. Sunlight blares through the gaps in the leaves every few meters. It stabs Iwaizumi in the eyes, leaving him grumbling and squinting.

Oikawa looks vaguely gray in the passenger seat next to him, clenching his jaw shut and staring out the window at the evergreen forest dancing around them. Car sickness. They've been in here for over two hours, after all, with only one break to get some gas and pee at the small town at the bottom of the mountain, which was well over twenty minutes ago.

Makki and Mattsun don't seem to share Oikawa's stomach. They'd been playing cat's cradle in the backseats for an honestly unsettlingly long time, but now seem to have devolved into trying to tangle each other's fingers up as much as possible, humming along to the music filtering through the car's raspy old speaker system.

The car hits a particularly large rock and jolts upward. Oikawa whimpers softly as he lands back in his seat. He clutches the seatbelt with shaking hands. Iwaizumi glances at him, trying to pay attention to the winding road at the same time. "Do you need to get out and puke?" he asks.

"Mm." Oikawa shakes his head, not trusting himself to open his mouth. He's sweating, although that could just be from the harsh sun and general lack of air conditioning.

"Well, open the window anyway," Iwaizumi grumps. "It's hot as hell in here."

Oikawa fumbles with the crank for the window but eventually manages to roll it all the way down, immediately sticking his head out and sighing in relief at the rush of cool air on his sticky face. His hair whips around him, soft and golden in the sunlight. Like a halo.

Iwaizumi stares at him, dazed, before wrenching his attention back to the road.

He can feel Makki and Mattsun giving him a look. He resolutely ignores them.

They sit in relative silence for a few more minutes, Oikawa still leaning his head out the window like a Labrador retriever. Iwaizumi glances in the maladjusted rearview mirror and more than once catches Makki simply playing with Mattsun's fingers, bright red cat's cradle string slung, abandoned, around their wrists. Both views make his stomach swoop high into his throat.

He knows why the sight of Oikawa makes him do that.

The other two, though... that's... new.

He pushes it out of his mind for the time being. No sense in entertaining thoughts of having feelings for people he's going to be stuck in the same cabin with for twelve days.

The car goes over another bump in the road. Oikawa purses his lips. The suitcases in the trunk thud gently against the floor and the paper bags full of groceries rustle and clank softly from where they rest against Makki and Mattsun's legs. The wind whistles through the window. Oikawa's phone fades into a new song, just as upbeat and sickeningly sweet as the last.

It's like alcohol to him, these songs. Iwaizumi knows. He hopes that over this sliver of a summer vacation he can help Oikawa to forget all that he should have left behind at the bottom of the mountain; a bucket of tears and a broken heart and this shitty, shitty pop music.

 

 

The cabin comes into view, blooming from the dense forest surrounding it, dark and dim and small. The sun beats down even more unforgivingly, heating up the car until Iwaizumi can feel sweat rolling down the back of his neck even with every window rolled all the way down.

Putting the car into park in the gravel driveway and stumbling out with stiff legs and butts long fallen asleep has never felt better. Mattsun stretches his arms far above his head, straightening out his slouch for once in his stupidly tall life. Makki pokes his exposed stomach and he squirms away, snorting. Oikawa leans heavily with his hands on the hood of the car, taking deep breaths and staring at the blessedly unmoving ground.

Iwaizumi observes their surroundings, lifting the hem of his t-shirt to wipe at the sweat dripping into his eyes. The cabin barely protrudes from the forest. It's more like an afterthought or a fading dream than a real, physical structure. Over the wind he can hear the faint rush of water- a river, somewhere. His uncle had said there were fish there in the summer, and that two fishing rods could be found in the closet off the entry hall of the cabin.

The four of them start dragging their suitcases and the bags of groceries up to the front door. Iwaizumi fumbles in the pockets of his cargo shorts for the keys.

The cabin itself is dark brown wood, almost black, with wide windows and a sharply sloping roof. Two stories. Narrow structure. Tiny deck. Rough around the edges, but habitable. His uncle had assured them that there was plenty of running water, and not to worry about "the tank," whatever that was. Electricity could be iffy, though.

Iwaizumi finally gets the key into the lock and props open the door, feeling around for the light switch. He stubs his pinky on a picture frame, swearing loudly.

Oikawa giggles, shifting his paper bag onto his hip and reaching around Iwaizumi to feel along the wall, too. Their fingers brush and Iwaizumi flinches.

Oikawa glances at him with an unreadable expression before leaning a millimeter closer and very slowly and deliberately running his rough fingertips over Iwaizumi's knuckles. Iwaizumi forces himself to not flinch away and to keep looking for the light switch. Oikawa's fingers press hot against his wrist, then his whole hand flattens out, completely covering Iwaizumi's.

The hairs on Iwaizumi's arm stand up as he breaks out in goosebumps.

"So are the two of you gonna stand here and explore this hand kink or are we going to actually move sometime this century?" drawls Makki from behind a smirking Mattsun.

Iwaizumi starts, flushes horribly, and blusters his way inside, stumbling in the dark until his flailing hand hits the light switch and the cramped entry hall glows a dim yellow. Makki and Mattsun snort loudly with laughter.

In the light Iwaizumi can see Oikawa's face properly. It isn't red at all. He doesn't seem embarrassed in the least, he's even got that signature shit-eating grin plastered on. It pisses him off, just a little, to be reminded once again that his feelings for Oikawa are nothing but one-sided. He rounds the corner and stomps off up the steep and narrow staircase in a stormy mood, hunting for the bedroom.

His foot doesn't quite get on one of the steps all the way and his weight is suddenly thrown off-kilter as he steps up. Quickly tipping backwards, Iwaizumi scrambles for the railing but his hand only meets smooth walls and the suitcase thunks down a step and fuck fuck fuck he's _falling_ -

"Woah there," Makki's deep voice laughs right below his ear. His hands are hot on Iwaizumi's waist as he catches him and steadies him back on the step. "So hot-headed." His shoulder bumps into Iwaizumi's upper back, sandy-peach hair tickling his neck. Iwaizumi can almost feel his breath on his jaw.

"Shut it," Iwaizumi grouses, steadying himself and trying to calm his heart but finding it a bit too difficult with Makki's hands still resting on his bare hips; his shirt had ridden up a bit. He feels shaky. Gingerly, he starts up the stairs once again, glaring at his feet in embarrassed concentration. Makki's thumbs press just a little harder into his skin before slipping away.

Iwaizumi can feel his entire torso heating up. He hopes no one notices.

They find the bedroom to their left, filled with warm green light from the huge bay window set into the wall directly across from the door. On either side of this window are two beds tucked neatly into the corners of the room, stripped bare; the linen closet's a few steps down the hall. A nice, balanced bedroom. Iwaizumi knows he'll sleep well in it.

Well. He _would_ , had the beds not been queen-sized rather than the king-sized he had been expecting. There isn't a chance of anyone wanting to sleep on the unforgiving floor or the broken-springed couch. They'll have to pair off and share. Crammed together. Limbs all over each other. Breathing softly on each other's necks. Having to disentangle from each other's legs come morning because by some amazing play by fate, _none_ of them are motionless sleepers.

_Wonderful. Can't fucking wait._

"Oh, Iwa-chan's got a headache," Mattsun grins, dragging his and Makki's shared suitcase behind him through the doorway to stand between them. His dark eyes sweep once around the room and his Cheshire cat smirk grows wider.

Lunging forward, he catches Makki around the waist, sending the air whooshing out of his lungs with a strangled grunt, and tackles him to the bed to their left, letting out a bark of laughter as Makki flails in midair, bouncing on the springy mattress. "This one's ours!" he calls over his shoulder to Iwaizumi just as Oikawa walks in.

Makki lays helplessly giggling on the bed. Mattsun's practically straddling him, hovering over him on all fours with his knees pressed to Makki's bony hips. Iwaizumi almost feels like Oikawa caught him doing something embarrassing, even though it's the other two being idiots.

They honest to god look like they're about two seconds away from a furious make-out session.

...maybe it's just their perpetual bedroom eyes.

"Oh, a queen?" is all Oikawa says, primly ignoring them.

Iwaizumi shakes himself out of whatever all _that_ was and replies, "Yeah, sorry. Looks like we're sharing." His voice is rough.

Oikawa smiles faintly, peering absently around the room, probably trying to figure out where the closet is. "Ah, that's fine. It'll be like when we were kids."

 _It'll be_ nothing _like when we were kids,_ Iwaizumi almost says, but he bites his tongue and keeps it to himself. Oikawa probably meant what he said, anyway.

"Iwa-chan, go get some sheets, would you?"

 _This is supposed to be a friend thing,_ Iwaizumi scolds himself. Too distracted to even complain about being ordered around, he turns on his heel and clumsily hurries out into the hall again in search of the linen closet.  _Don't go turning it into something it's not._

Mattsun and Makki's laughter as they fell against each other on the bed rings out in Iwaizumi's ears, but it's Oikawa's wistful smile that fills his vision.

The sheets are cool and clean against his burning face.


	2. IWAIZUMI: Arrival pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrysochlorous: a greenish-gold colour

"Iwa-chaaaaan, there's no wifi up here..."

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, stuffing the last of the canned goods into the pantry before shutting the door to it a bit harder than he meant to. It bounces sharply once before thudding softly back into place.

"Idiot, that's a good thing. Now you can't stalk that bitch's social media and make yourself all depressed again."

Oikawa flinches.

Iwaizumi immediately fumes at himself. Oikawa is still touchy about insulting his ex, even though she had treated him like garbage and deserved to be called worse than that. But he hadn't meant to snap. Being confined to such a small, enclosed space with Oikawa, Makki, and Mattsun was already a little overwhelming, and his anxiety had begun to fray the edges of his temper.

"Sorry," he mumbles, sincerely, but he can't meet Oikawa's eyes. He stares at the mottled imitation-marble countertop instead.

"It's okay," Oikawa says, too quietly, but Iwaizumi can see out of the corner of his eye that his shoulders have relaxed and he's gone back to tapping at his phone. "I will have to use some data to check my mail while I'm up here, though. Just in case something comes up."

"Oh, of course." Iwaizumi folds the last paper grocery bag and halfheartedly flings it on top of the pile on the corner of the countertop.

Makki and Mattsun stumble in, nearly tripping as the screen door catches in its track when they attempt to quickly shove it open. Their cheeks and arms are flushed pink with waning summer heat, and the hair on the back of Mattsun's neck is sticky and slicked to his skin.

"It's so nice out, Iwa-chan, Oikawa, you have to come see the forest!" Makki practically bubbles, a huge smile on his face.

Iwaizumi's gaze gets stuck on his crooked teeth. "Uh, yeah, alright," he says, temporarily running on autopilot. "I was just putting the last of the food away." He ambles over to the sliding doors and stomps into his battered old running shoes, pausing to pull the backs over his heels. "Oikawa, come on, get your shoes on."

Oikawa looks hesitant and Iwaizumi can't for the life of him understand why. It's a gorgeous evening, and the sun has gone behind some clouds and started to set, so it isn't as sweltering as it was when they arrived. The green of the trees and brush and grass surrounding them almost seems to permeate the air, flowing in through the open door and making Iwaizumi itch to go exploring.

"It'll be like when we were kids," Iwaizumi adds.

Oikawa pauses for half a second longer before sliding his phone into his pocket and an easy, genuine smile onto his face. "What about mosquitos? Or ticks? Do we have bug spray?" he asks as follows suit and slips his shoes on.

"Uh, I think I brought tick spray..?" Mattsun furrows his brows and slips inside, making his way upstairs. "It's in my backpack," he calls over his shoulder. His legs are long enough to skip even these steep steps; he's already in the bedroom.

Iwaizumi finally exits the tiny cabin, breathing in deeply. The scent of earth and chlorophyll fills his lungs and he closes his eyes, feels the slightest breeze on his arms, hears the flat shuffles of shoes on dirt, almost tastes the pink-orange sunlight filtering through the leaves.

"Iwa-chan the mountain man," Oikawa teases him. He nudges Iwaizumi's forearm with his elbow until Iwaizumi cracks one eye open to exaggeratedly glare at him, earning a snort from both him and Makki.

"Oh, now he's Popeye," Makki snickers.

"Arrr." Iwaizumi rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and flexes. "Ay matey."

They stare at him.

He drops into a squat and booms in as deep a voice as he can, "WHERE THE SPINACH."

Oikawa and Makki almost choke on their spit as they burst out laughing uproariously, Makki's laugh mostly short wheezing, like he's asthmatic or something, while Oikawa snorts obnoxiously on every other inhale.

"I-I-Iwa-chan, Popeye d-doesn't say ' _arrr_ ,' he's not a p- _pirate_ , oh my g-g-gha-a-aH HA HA HA AHAA HHHAH- IWA-CHAN, HE'S A _SAILOR_!" Oikawa can't even get the words out right, he's laughing too hard. "You s-said _W-W-WHERE THE SPINACH-H-H HA HAAAH HA AHH HA H-HAAAA-"_

Mattsun reappears in the doorway with a spray bottle in hand, one bushy eyebrow raised in silent question as he takes in the Renaissance-esque masterpiece of a view that is Makki slowly dying of laughter-inflicted asphyxiation against the side of the cabin, tears streaming down his face; Oikawa crouched on his heels, clutching his stomach and practically sobbing; and Iwaizumi squatting and flexing between them.

Without missing a single beat Mattsun takes two graceful steps into the great outdoors and promptly nails Iwaizumi's butt with a jetstream of tick spray.

Makki should really seriously consider investing in an inhaler.

 

  
The sun is slipping away, throwing red and gold across the sky like dancing ribbons. Makki and Mattsun had fallen behind a few minutes ago. They talk quietly between each other, murmurs not meant for Iwaizumi's ears.

"Iwa-chan, do you know what's really fun?" Oikawa pokes his cheek.

Iwaizumi swats his hand away. Oikawa catches it, tangling their fingers together.

"When you run so fast you can't hear anything but the wind." And he's glowing in the dying light, hair shifting into spun gold again, and his eyes are wide and wild and he's stolen Iwaizumi's breath so he lets Oikawa pull him along, sprinting along the poorly beaten path to who knows where.

The wind whistles so loudly in his ears he can't even hear his feet pounding the dirt.

He doesn't know how long they run, he only knows the screaming air passing his face and the hand still clutched tight in Oikawa's grip. They run down a hill, picking up speed until Iwaizumi fears wiping out completely on a stray root or rock, but they slow down on the next ascent, finally coming to a rest on the peak.

Oikawa's staring out into the wilderness before them, towering trees and rolling valleys, fallen leaves from last autumn still rotting on the ground.

Limitless.

Iwaizumi's staring at Oikawa, hair tangled in a windblown mess, chest heaving up and down as he comes down from his high.

Timeless.

Oikawa catches his eye and he doesn't look away. His grip on Oikawa's hand tightens. "That was..." he pants. "That was really..." He can't finish.

Oikawa smiles faintly and tugs his hand free. "Thanks." He turns back to the forest. "I needed that."

The sun slips a millimeter lower in the sky and blasts through a gap in the trees, and suddenly Oikawa is bathed in gold. It drips down his face and melts in his hair and fingers, and he looks like an angel come to visit earth for just a short while, just a moment, before he slips away like a forgotten dream.

 _Priceless_.

Iwaizumi aches.

 

  
The moonlight treats him differently. He still looks like an angel, but he's smaller somehow. Less brilliant. He's stealing half the blankets and Iwaizumi is starting to get cold, and this should be really weird, staring at his sleeping friend, but he's too tired to care.

He shuffles forward, tipping into a silent dream, and wraps his arms around Oikawa's waist. He can still feel the sunlight on his skin.

 

  
Oikawa wakes to hands on his stomach and a nose on the back of his neck.

_He's so fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ho ho ho


	3. OIKAWA- Masquerade pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erythraean: a reddish colour

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa murmurs, voice raspy. " _Iwa-chan._ " No answer. Oikawa tries to wiggle out of Iwaizumi's hold, but Iwaizumi only huffs in his sleep, tightens his arms around Oikawa's waist, and nuzzles his face up into the short hair on the back of Oikawa's neck.

Oikawa closes his eyes and exhales shakily. "You can't do this to me, Hajime," he whispers. His own hands drift up to rest over Iwaizumi's on his stomach, fingers twitching with nerves. Might as well take full advantage of the situation while Iwaizumi is still asleep.

Oikawa knows he would never do this while awake, after all.

He stares out across the dimly-lit room to where Makki and Mattsun lay together, breathing deep and slow. They're facing each other, Makki's nose tucked up under Mattsun's chin, and Oikawa can't see how they're settled beneath the blankets but it definitely seems like their legs are thoroughly tangled. Oikawa wants to looks away, or close his eyes and ignore it all, but he can't. It makes his chest twist in a way that makes him wonder how much of it he can stand.

Iwaizumi sighs contentedly against his neck. His hands drag upward just a bit, shifting Oikawa's own on top of them.

_You can't have any of this, not really._

Apparently he can't stand very much.

Oikawa's eyes sting. He instinctively curls further into Iwaizumi's warmth, shaking, knees drifting upwards to his chest. He forces his gasps back down his throat but one tiny broken sob cracks free and-

"Hey, hey, shh. S'okay..."

Oikawa freezes, heart suddenly several inches higher than it should be and blood running ice cold. Everything flatlines for two excruciating heartbeats. Nothing else happens.

Iwaizumi had mumbled that in his sleep.

Oikawa lets the tears slip free, silently choking. Iwaizumi is going to kill him someday.

 

  
Oikawa gets up early enough to wash his face of tearstains and puffiness in the bathroom before anyone can see, but he can't quite get rid of the redness in the corners of his eyes. He slips on his glasses instead of putting in contacts. Hopefully the thick plastic frames will hide... _that_.

He avoids Iwaizumi's gaze successfully enough, but while Iwaizumi is frying eggs on the gas stove and Makki is locked up in the bathroom doing who knows what, Mattsun joins Oikawa to lounge on the living room sofa as he waits for breakfast.

"Were you crying?" Mattsun asks, low enough that only Oikawa can hear him. "This morning, I mean."

Oikawa swallows tightly and stares at his socks. "No," he says firmly. His voice doesn't waver. He's gotten better at controlling that.

Mattsun is impressively unconvinced. "Your eyes are red." He scoots a bit closer, enough for their thighs to press together. It's grounding.

"So maybe I was crying a little bit," Oikawa huffs, trying to feign annoyance. "It's got nothing to do with you."

"Doesn't matter." Mattsun plucks the glasses right off his nose, finally getting Oikawa to look at him. "I'm your friend, aren't I?"

And he sounds so uncharacteristically uncertain that Oikawa's blurting "yes!" almost before he finishes his question.

"So tell me what's wrong," Mattsun says softly.

Oikawa already knows he can't tell him the full story, not when they still have so many days to be stuck with each other. He bites his lip and twists his fingers in his lap. Better to tell Mattsun a partial truth to get him off his case. "You and Makki are... pretty close," he starts hesitantly, glancing up for a reaction. He doesn't really get one. "I guess I just saw you two this morning... all wrapped up in each other... and I was... overwhelmed..?" He winces.

"Overwhelmed with what?"

"Well, I..." Oikawa's mouth stays open but his voice completely dies as he stares like a fish over Mattsun's shoulder. He fumbles for his glasses and shoves them on his face, which promptly turns bright red.

Mattsun twists around and catches sight of what's got Oikawa's attention. Makki makes his way over to them with a full face of makeup on; two perfect cat eyes, filled in brows, and a pink-tinted highlighter that glows on his cheekbones and reflects off of his peachy hair. He looks stunning. And apprehensive.

"Ah... d-does this- um- this look okay?" he trips over his words, crossing and uncrossing his arms anxiously a few feet away from the couch where Oikawa sits ogling him.

Mattsun opens his mouth to respond but Oikawa beats him to the punch with a cacophonous shrieking of "OH MY _GOD_ MAKKI YOU LOOK _GORGEOUS_ WHAT THE _HELL_ , CAN YOU TEACH ME HOW TO DO THAT?!"

Even through the makeup, Makki flushes a beautiful crimson across his nose and cheeks. "Um- I- right _now?_ "

Oikawa clumsily launches himself over the back of the couch. "Iwa-chan is still cooking, isn't he?" he demands. "We have time."

So Makki shyly takes him by the wrist and leads him up to the upstairs bathroom, where he's got a few small bottles and several tiny flip-open palettes of various powders scattered across the counter. Oikawa's whole arm feels like it's burning by the time Makki releases him. He bounces in his seat on the toilet. His brain feels like it's going to buzz out of his skull with nervous energy.

Why is he so flustered in the first place, anyway? Is it because he's going to try something he's never done before? Is it because this whole idea of someone else doing his makeup is weirdly intimate? Is it because Makki is in front of him wearing _absolutely killer eyeliner_ and he's probably the _hottest_ _man Oikawa's seen in his life?_ Is it just because it's _Makki?_

Thankfully Makki completely fries Oikawa's brain by leaning down in front of him and gently sliding his glasses off his face, leaving a puff of cherry chapstick behind, and wipes out that train of thought entirely. Otherwise Oikawa is pretty sure he would have exploded.

Oikawa doesn't exactly pay attention to what Makki's saying as he bustles around, explaining away every single product he's using on him, and it honestly is mostly helpful since Makki doesn't need to worry about sounding stupid if Oikawa's only half-listening and doesn't know shit about makeup anyway. No, what's got Oikawa's attention this time is Makki's mouth, which is really attractive and also by his face a lot, which gets his own mouth very distracted. Makki tells him to stop biting his lip seven times while he rubs concealer on Oikawa's skin, but once he moves on from that he gives up.

Not a word is said about Oikawa's red eyes.

Oikawa likes the really big fluffy brush that Makki uses to "tour his cheekbones" or something the most. It's very smooth against his skin. Makki uses his free hand to tip and tilt Oikawa's jaw around, and rests his fingers there to keep him still, which is probably what he _actually_ likes about this step.

Iwaizumi calls up the stairs that breakfast is ready while Makki's halfway done with the eyeshadow on one eye, a deep jewel green that he says will make Oikawa's eyes look warmer. He laughs a bit as he blends in the last of it. "You look like you belong in the forest, all green and brown." Oikawa doesn't know what to make of that, so he just keeps his mouth shut and tries not to overheat from how close Makki's face is to his own.

Makki finishes up rolling on mascara as their stomachs start to growl. "No eyeliner?" Oikawa asks, admittedly a bit disappointed that they're done already.

"Nah, I'm starving," Makki says, packing some things away in a small clutch bag. He grins, lopsidedly. "Besides, I think it looks amazing as it is. I wouldn't want to risk overdoing it."

And if Oikawa later decides, as he stuffs his face with fried eggs, that he would protect that smile with his life, well, that's his business.


	4. OIKAWA- Masquerade pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oread: a mountain nymph

Oikawa tugs down his shorts for the fifth time in ten minutes. "When are we going to pick a spot?" he whines. "I need to stop walking, these stupid shorts keep giving me wedgies."

"Maybe if you actually paid attention to what you packed, you wouldn't have this problem, Shittykawa," Iwaizumi snaps, ahead of him only by a few paces. His ears are red.

Oikawa knows it's just from the summer heat of walking through the forest at one in the afternoon, but he can't resist teasing Iwaizumi just a little. "Ahh, sorry, are they too distracting, Iwa-chan? Is that why you rushed ahead and refuse to look at me?"

"No," Iwaizumi grits out. His knuckles are white against the handle of the wicker picnic basket.

Oikawa's wearing the gym shorts from Kitagawa Daiichi that he'd packed by accident. He thought it'd be okay to wear when he found them this morning; evidently he hadn't thought about actully moving around in them. They are tight. Uncomfortably so.

Matsukawa leans way into Iwaizumi's space and slings an arm over his shoulder. "I dunno, I'm pretty distracted," he leers. "Are you sure you aren't, Iwa-chan? Or is it the makeup that's got you all hot and bothered?"

Iwaizumi splutters. "I am not all hot and bothered- he's not- _no-!_ "

Oikawa joins Makki in laughing at Iwaizumi shoving Mattsun straight into a tree, where some sort of hard green fruit plonks right onto his head, but he himself is also rather embarrassed. Did Mattsun just admit to finding him attractive in his old gym shorts? Or was he joking around as usual?

A squirmy feeling in Oikawa's stomach tells him it's pretty likely to be the former.

He ignores it.

He always ignores it. That feeling had led him to too many people who only ever ended up neatly tossing him to the side, tired and used and dull, like an old tissue. He doesn't need to risk that with one of the few people he can still say is actually close to him.

Mattsun is a jokester. He revels in embarrassing his friends.

It isn't wise to entertain the idea of being anything more than that.

"Earth to Major Tom," Makki waves a hand in front of his face. It smells like strawberries. "You're spacing out."

"It's _ground control_ to Major Tom," Oikawa rolls his eyes, forcing himself back up into reality. "You're just as bad as Iwa-chan and his ridiculous attempt at impersonating Popeye."

Makki giggles a bit at the memory. "I'm not _that_ bad."

"Mm, I guess not." Oikawa absently pulls his shorts down again; they're getting to be really annoying.

He sighs in relief when Mattsun finally calls back, "Right here looks good!" Following him and Iwaizumi, he stomps off the beaten path, flattening grass beneath his sneakers and filling the air with the broken viridian scent of summer.

Mattsun lays down the rather ratty blanket in the middle of the little clearing. The trees here are younger, more spindly, and give way to more sun than on the canopied dirt path. The land rolls in rocky waves around them, twisting into almost a tiny canyon of sorts further into the forest; a natural valleyed walkway to someplace else, breathless and untouched.

Oikawa, for just half a second, is overcome with the wild urge to run down that passage and never come back. But it passes as quickly as it came, and all he ends up doing is staring longingly at it, as if he can hear someone calling his name from just around the bend but he knows he could never answer.

Some things, after all, are best left unexplored.

 

"Your love for milk bread is almost nauseating." Makki makes a retching face as Oikawa tears open the package for his fourth treat.

Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him. "You just don't appreciate fine cuisine, Makki-chan."

Iwaizumi snorts loudly from his position on the blanket, spread-eagled on his back. "You're going to get cavities from those. And don't you want to save some for later?"

"Obviously you have never felt the extreme satisfaction of instant gratification, Iwa-chan," Oikawa says over a mouthful of addictively sweet bread.

"Yeah, you could do with a little more chasing after instant gratification." Matsukawa nudges Iwaizumi with his knee and pops another cherry tomato into his mouth. "Mister Cautious."

Iwaizumi lazily kicks in his general direction, too full of sandwiches and grapes to feel like actually putting effort into moving. He groans and slings his arms over his stomach and eyes. "I need a nap."

"Ugh, me too," Makki yawns, shuffling over to him. Turning to look at Oikawa, he opens his mouth to say something but his gaze catches just behind Oikawa's head and his eyes widen as he scrambles upward.

Oikawa, alarmed, immediately twists around to see what Makki's looking at and _oh jesus there's something hurtling straight toward him_ so he whips his arm out to try and deflect it and his fist connects with something small and furry and oh shit, oh _fuck_ , Oikawa Tooru, eighteen years old and sporting the smallest shorts he's ever worn in his entire life, has just _punched a goddamn squirrel right in the face._

He is, to put it simply, horrified.

They all stare.

The squirrel's bottom left paw twitches.

Oikawa lets out a deafening screech and hightails it the _fuck_ out of there, full on sprinting in illegally tiny volleyball shorts back up to the path. He's like 90% leg, it's _ridiculous_ , Makki's laughing so hard he can't breathe and Mattsun and Iwaizumi are not much better. The squirrel probably has a mild concussion and wobbles unsteadily back into the trees. Lord help it if it decides to try and steal someone's precious milk bread ever again, apparently.

The look on Mattsun's face when he realizes Oikawa does not actually have any plans of returning is absolutely priceless.

 

Oikawa still clutches the last of his milk bread in shaky hands, tearing off huge bites of it to get it out of sight as soon as possible, when Mattsun delivers him back to the clearing. His shorts are wedged as awful as ever but he has refused to let go of the bread with even one hand to fix this.

"You're incredible," Mattsun says, highly amused at his skittishness.

"I got attacked by a _squirrel_ , Mattsun," Oikawa glowers. "I'm traumatized for life. I'll probably never be able to look at a woodland creature ever again."

"Ah, guess you can't look in the mirror, then," Mattsun says as they reseat themselves on the blanket.

Oikawa blinks. "Sorry, what?"

Mattsun reaches over and softly brushes his thumb across Oikawa's cheek. "The makeup," he mumbles. It catches on Oikawa's bottom lip.

Oikawa's breath hitches.

"You look like a fairy. Like you belong here."

Oikawa leans back just enough for Mattsun's hand to fall away. He stuffs his face with more milk bread and averts his gaze, heart beating a mile a minute.

Mattsun huffs a laugh, leaning back on his elbows. "Shy."

Oikawa refuses to speak. His brain struggles to process what's just happened, the gears jamming and stuttering in all the wrong places.

He doesn't understand.

He doesn't know if he even wants to.

He looks up to see if Iwaizumi has anything to say, or even just a look to give, but everything comes to a shuddering halt when he sees Makki cuddled up to him, arm resting delicately on his waist, breathing softly into his shoulder. They're both asleep.

That _feeling_ returns tenfold, raging from his stomach up through his windpipe and cascading into his lungs and he is so full, _too_ full, he almost wants to puke but there's nothing really there.

Nothing but sticky-sugar bread.

He stands, suddenly, abandoning the half-eaten bun on the crumpled blanket. He has never seen Iwaizumi look this peaceful. He has never seen Makki more breathtaking.

Mattsun lets him go this time.

He doesn't come back for hours.

 

"Where were you?" Iwaizumi asks much, much later. Oikawa's hair is still damp from his shower and it drips onto the pillow beneath his head.

"Out," Oikawa mutters shortly. He stares at Iwaizumi's collarbones, peeking out from under his shirt. "Does it matter?"

Iwaizumi shifts to lay on his back. "Not really. You just like to keep a lot of secrets is all." He glances at him, sideways and disquieted. "You like to run away, too."

"I don't _like_ to do either of those," Oikawa spits. He flips roughly to his other side, angry. All this accomplishes is that it gets him a view of Mattsun and Makki who are, once again, all tied up in each other. A wave of loneliness shivers up his spine.

He has it all, right here in front of him. And yet...

Iwaizumi is quiet for a long time. Oikawa almost thinks he's gone to sleep, except his breathing is still too shallow. Then he huddles close, reaching out tentatively to brush his hand through Oikawa's hair once, twice, and whispers a cracked "I'm sorry."

Oikawa breathes in, out, once, twice, lets his muscles relax, lets his back hit Iwaizumi's chest and stay there, lets Iwaizumi run his fingers through his hair until he falls asleep.

But he doesn't let himself do any more than that.

_Some things, after all, are best left unexplored._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all aboard the angst train doot doot
> 
> if you would like to know what you've gotten yourself into, well..... i have added some new tags............


	5. MATSUKAWA: Revelations pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recondite: out of the way; little known

This is, to be perfectly honest, ridiculous.

The thing is, Mattsun knows. He _knows_. He'd have to be a fool to not notice the way Oikawa's face brightens, softens when he looks at Iwaizumi, or the way he completely stopped functioning when Makki showed up wearing makeup, or the rosy flush that crawled up his neck yesterday when Mattsun flirted with him.

He can clearly hear how Iwaizumi's voice lowers into a more comfortable pitch when he's talking to Oikawa, and he is well aware of Iwaizumi's tendency to cover up his need to touch with sharpness. Iwaizumi jokes a lot more with Makki as well, lets out his looser side. It's a refreshing change from how uptight he is at school, where eyes are constantly on him, and Mattsun knows he doesn't act like that around just any friend. As for how Iwaizumi feels about Mattsun himself, well, that's a bit harder to judge. He almost feels intimidated by the thought of flirting with Iwaizumi, so he hasn't tried. But Iwaizumi's an awful blusher, and Mattsun doesn't have to use words to twist and flaunt his body in the locker room.

And Makki- well... Makki is _easy_. It's obvious how much he likes Mattsun, exploiting every last excuse to put his hands on him, cuddle him in their shared bed, and he's always staring just out of the corner of his eye. Makki glows when he's joking around with Iwaizumi as well. Mattsun would be jealous, but he's 95% sure that they like him too. And Oikawa? God, the sight of Oikawa in flawless makeup just won't leave his head. He'd readily admit that Oikawa's makeup was visibly better than Makki's. He could practically feel the air of utmost care that still hung like perfume about his face. Not a single smudge was out of line.

And for someone like Makki, to focus so intently on something that only four people would ever see, surely means something.

Speaking of Makki.

There he goes around the corner, trailing his knobby fingers along the uneven surface of the hallway wall. "Not much to see," he calls back. The rain hisses steadily against the cabin's walls and roof.

"I'm sure you'll find something," Mattsun chuckles, opting to lean against the wall and feel it, chilled, against his shoulder. "S'kinda cold in here," he remarks.

"Probably a gap in the planks somewhere," Makki muses, then peers up at the ceiling at the end of the hall. "Is that a trap door?"

Mattsun ambles over, socks dragging on the carpet, and tips his head back to see what Makki's asking about. Sure enough, there's a square cut and raised right above their heads. "You wanna check it out?" he asks.

Makki's face glows. "Yeah! Help me find a ladder!" And he skids off down the stairs, shouting over his shoulder, "you check up there!"

Mattsun's heart fizzes, squirming in his carbonated chest. "Alright," he says, too soft. He's sure Makki doesn't hear him. He traipses back over to the bedroom, wondering if there was maybe a ladder buried behind Oikawa's and Iwaizumi's explosion of clothes in the closet.

Mattsun lightly pushes the door open, glances at Oikawa and Iwaizumi's bed, and stops dead in his tracks.

Oikawa's sitting up, back against the headboard, with a book held loosely in one hand in his lap. His other hand combs and sifts through Iwaizumi's hair. Iwaizumi himself is on his side, facing Oikawa, one fist curled limply in his UFO-print t-shirt, and is fast asleep.

Oikawa looks _lonely_.

His hand seems to be running on autopilot, tracing the same path over and over again; across the forehead, around the ear, then pushing up the back and carding down around to start the pattern over.

He's staring at nothing. His unfocused eyes are fixed on Iwaizumi's face, but he isn't really looking. He's not even blinking.

Oikawa is a million miles away, and Mattsun _hurts_.

He steps silently back out, waits a second, then noisily re-enters the room, shoving the door open so that it rebounds against the wall and shudders on its hinges.

Oikawa jumps. His hand practically warps away from Iwaizumi's hair and back to the page of his book. His eyes flit wildly between his lap and Mattsun and, definitively, not Iwaizumi. "Ah- I, uh- didn't see you there, Mattsun!" he chirps nervously, flipping a page with trembling fingers. He's not reading it.

"Have you been up this whole time?" Mattsun asks nonchalantly on his way to the closet, barely sparing him a sideways glance.

"Uh- um- well- n-not for very long, no."

"Just reading, then?" Jesus c _hrist_ , did they really need to bring this many clothes?

"Y-yeah!" Oikawa swallows roughly. "Just reading!"

"Iwaizumi is pretty cuddly in his his sleep, huh?" Why is Iwaizumi's Godzilla shirt deep in Oikawa's side of the closet..?

"Ah-" Oikawa squeaks. "Yeah, s-sure looks like it! Ha ha!"

Mattsun hums in mock-thought, pushing aside some sweatpants to get to the other corner. No ladder. Hopefully Makki will have found one by now.

"So Mattsun," Oikawa starts, obviously fighting to get his voice back down to its proper pitch. "Are you looking for something specific?"

"Ah, just a ladder. Makki and I are exploring, he found a trap door, and-" something dangling from inside an inconspicuous plain grey shirt catches his eye. He tugs on it, pulls it out into the light, and-

_What the hell?_

There is a deafening silence before Oikawa lets out a nearly inaudible, horribly strangled wail and scrambles from the bed to snatch the article of clothing from Mattsun's hand, shoving it behind his back in two very tight fists.

Mattsun blinks. "Was that _yours_?" His voice doesn't sound right.

Oikawa looks like he just about had a heart attack. "Well." It's disconcerting how suddenly he becomes so artificially calm, turning to the closet, locating his backpack on the floor, and shoving the offending cloth into a deeply hidden pocket. "Y-yes. But I didn't... I didn't mean to bring it." He takes a very deep, very shaky breath. "I-It must have gotten trapped inside my shirt when I- when I did the laundry- I guess I didn't c-catch it before I packed."

Mattsun doesn't know what to say. His arms feel stupid and heavy, hanging by his side. He stares at his feet. He knows Oikawa isn't looking at him either.

"I'd appreciate it if this was never brought up again," Oikawa says, wobbly. Small. Kind of scared.

"Of course." And so he awkwardly turns around and walks out, back to where Makki is just coming up the stairs with a ladder, back to where he was before, when he hadn't seen Oikawa stroking Iwaizumi's hair. When he hadn't seen Iwaizumi's clothes so naturally blending in with Oikawa's. When Oikawa wasn't a liar.

When he never knew about the small, black, and lacy kinds of things Oikawa wanted to keep secret.

 

"What are you spacing out about?" Makki asks as they set up the ladder to finally explore the attic.

"Nothing," Mattsun says. "Just wondering about some things."

"What kinds of things?"

Mattsun shuffles the ladder over an inch, craning his neck to look at how it lines up with trapdoor. "Just... feelings. Stupid stuff."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Mattsun wonders how many conversations the four of them are stubbornly resolved to having without just _looking at each other for once_. "Not really," he says, setting his foot on the bottom rung so Makki can steadily climb. "Maybe later."

"I'll hold you up to that."

 _I hope you do_. "Ah, come on, it's not that important."

"If it's your feelings, it's important," Makki says, with a suddenly sharp edge of seriousness. He finally looks down. "Really. If something's bothering you, you should tell me. You know that."

"I know." Mattsun gives him a grin, and he seems satisfied enough with that, going back to figuring out how to open the door.

But how are you supposed to explain to your best friend that the reason you can't concentrate is because you can't stop thinking about the lingerie you found in another best friend's closet?

Especially when a very small but persistently shrill part of you is telling you it might not even have been his?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt this was very short but... a good breaking point!! I've kept you from updates for long enough ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
> 
>  
> 
> I feel like this might spoil the story a bit, but with the way this chapter ended, I DO NOT want anyone thinking that sex is going to be like some sort of end game here, because it isn't. In fact there probably isn't going to be anything explicit in this fic at all (although I haven't decided 100% yet) and if there is, it's going to be in an epilogue.
> 
> So if you're feeling iffy about the way this chapter seems to be directing the story, worry not! Sex is not the be-all, end-all!! The actual relationship will come first!! (￣^￣)ゞ


	6. MATSUKAWA: Revelations pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mendaciloquence: lying speech

"God _damn_ , it's dusty up here," Makki wheezes, in the attic from the shoulders up. "And it kind of smells moldy."

"Let's not take too long then, slowpoke." Mattsun jokingly rattles the ladder, causing Makki to yelp and grab onto the ledge of the trapdoor. He glares down at him. Mattsun just laughs. "Hurry up."

"I _would_ be going faster if _someone_ wasn't _trying to kill me,_ " Makki grumbles, heaving himself up nonetheless and promptly breaking into a hacking fit.

Mattsun would probably later deny that he clambers up the ladder as fast as he can, pounding on Makki's back as soon as he himself is squatting on the dusty floor next to him.

Makki throws him off, tentatively standing up. The only light in the whole attic is coming through a tiny, circular window on the wall opposite them, and even then it's barely anything. Faint dark shapes cluster in the corners, angular and stout.

"Just some boxes up here," Mattsun murmurs. The rain above them is so loud it almost drowns him out, but something about the attic makes him want to lower his voice, makes him want to whisper secrets into the shadows. It both emboldens and subdues him. "Do you want to look?"

"I do," Makki admits. His laughs runs a bit breathless. "But I don't think we should."

Some people's secrets can be out in the open and still not be anyone's business, after all.

"Then I think that's everything up here," Mattsun says, scratching his neck. "Unless you want to dig out a flashlight." He turns to leave.

Makki grabs his wrist. "...Issei?"

"Yeah?"

Makki scuffs his socks on the slatted wood floor. "I..."

Mattsun takes a tiny step towards him. Keeps his mouth shut. Waits.

Makki is nothing but an impression of himself up here, grey and soft around the edges in the dark. His breath is warm on Mattsun's cheek. His hand tightens around his arm. "What are your thoughts about Oi-?"

_CRASH!_

Both jump about a mile into the air, Makk's hand flying away from Mattsun's wrist as if it had been burned.

They're both silent for a heartbeat, breath stilled.

"What the fuck was that?" Mattsun whispers hoarsely.

"It came from over here." Makki creeps forward, toward the darkest corner of the attic.

Mattsun heart has launched itself securely in his throat. All of a sudden the darkness has lost its security and has ushered in an uneasy air, and Mattsun wants nothing more than to reach out and take Makki's hand again, but he keeps it clenched against his side and watches Makki's outline creep closer to whatever it was that spooked them.

Makki freezes, takes in a sharp breath. Mattsun's pulse trips.

Then Makki laughs. "Mattsun." He reaches back and swats blindly, fingertips snagging on Mattsun's shirt. "Mattsun, come here."

Confused, Mattsun peeks over his shoulder and sees, in the aftermath of several tipped boxes-

-cats?

Mattsun is speechless.

Makki squats down, laughing brightly again, and reaches out to the closest one, a speckled white ghost. It hesitates for only a second before nuzzling into his hand, rumbling softly. The rain has started to drift away by now, so Mattsun can hear the satisfied purring of a cat who hasn't been pet in far too long.

"C'mere, Mattsun, I know you're not allergic."

Mattsun warily crouches down beside him and holds out his hand for another cat— a tortoiseshell? It's too dark to tell— to sniff. It skips past that step completely and butts its head against his elbow, purring loudly.

"Looks like there's four of them," Makki whispers excitedly, peering around the gloomy mess of sprawling cardboard. Sure enough, two more cats pad out of their former hiding place and stare at them curiously. They seem to be more cautious than the ones demanding attention from Mattsun and Makki.

"How'd they get up here?" Mattsun asks, squinting at the window. "I'm pretty sure the window's the only way, but how would they have opened it from the outside?"

"Maybe there's a super secret tunnel underneath these boxes." Makki sounds way too unconcerned.

Mattsun decides to up the concern a bit. "What if they got in from a way that an intruder could also get in?"

"Oh, Mattsun, you worry too much," Makki snorts. "What intruder? There's no one around for _miles_. How far was it down to town? Thirty minutes?"

"Still," Mattsun mutters, not really prepared with a counterargument. Makki has a point. They're the only souls around.

Well. Them and the cats and an impulsive, milk bread-loving squirrel.

And some toads. Makki had caught one yesterday and chased Iwaizumi around with it. Mattsun stifles a laugh at the memory. It gets lost in the rain and the purring and Makki's cooing anyway.

"You're Pumpkin," he's saying to the orangish one. "And you're Phantom, and you're Pebbles. And you're..."

"Aoba," Mattsun blurts. The last one's white with black tabby markings.

Makki is quiet for a long time. The last cat's eyes are a startling, clear cerulean colour, like the whole summer sky was trapped in them.

"Yeah," Makki finally agrees. "This one's Aoba."

Mattsun scoops Aoba up and grins. "Can you imagine Iwaizumi's and Oikawa's faces when we come down with a bunch of cats?"

Makki takes one cat under each arm and stands, mirroring Mattsun's expression. He wiggles his eyebrows. "Lets go found out."

 

Mattsun thinks he's going to explode with the effort it takes to keep a straight face at Iwaizumi's reaction to the two of them solemnly marching downstairs, arms full of cat.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Loses his grip on the knife he's using to chop an onion. Doesn't even blink when it clatters an inch from his finger. Gestures weakly. Takes a huge breath and opens his mouth again.

All that comes out is a helpless, squeaky " _what?_ "

Mattsun chokes on his own snort and both of them promptly lose it.

Makki's howling on the ground when Oikawa rushes in from the living room, dazed and confused. He zeroes in immediately on the cats, ignoring his likely-asthmatic friend rolling on the floor.

"Kittens!" he squeals. He claps his hands once and kneels, excitedly offering his fingertips for the cats to sniff. Pebbles is the first to start rubbing against his shirt. Oikawa gasps quietly, absolutely delighted.

It's... it's really cute.

He's really cute.

Mattsun tears his gaze away, because he knows his face is a little too red to be just from laughing and Iwaizumi's looking at him in a way he's not sure he likes.

"Where did you find them?" Oikawa asks.

Makki's in no state to be forming comprehensible sentences at the moment, so Mattsun just supplies with "the attic. No idea how they got there, though."

Oikawa frowns faintly, stroking along Pumpkin's broad orange back. "Have they been up there this whole time? How do they get food?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Mattsun shrugs. "But they seem to be just fine."

Phantom hasn't bothered at all with Oikawa, instead choosing to sit on Makki's stomach (which surely isn't helping his breathing issues), but Aoba meows insistently up at Oikawa.

"What is it?" Oikawa coos. "What are you chattering about, huh?"

Aoba slinks around Oikawa's outstretched hand, but turns tail before he can pet her. She joins Phantom on Makki's stomach ("oh jeez," he wheezes) and stares back at Oikawa.

Mattsun might almost say she looks expectant, if he weren't talking about a cat.

Iwaizumi goes back to chopping his onion. "Stew okay with you guys tonight?" he asks over his shoulder. "Thought it'd be nice since it's been so rainy."

"Wow!" Makki warbles from his pinned place on the floor. "You really can make anything, Iwa-chan!"

"It's just _stew,_ " Iwaizumi grumbles, ears a telltale red.

Mattsun sidles up to him, leaning over to get his mouth near the same level as Iwaizumi's ear. "Anything I can do to help, Matser Chef Hajime?"

Iwaizumi pushes him away, failing to completely hide the happy quirk to his lips. "You just stay out the way, Fire Alarm Issei."

"Oh come on, that was _one time_ and it wasn't even in Home Ec, it was in chemistry," Mattsun protests, but he can feel himself grinning too.

"Still," Iwaizumi spares him a playful glance and Mattsun feels his heart do a weird skippy-screechy thing in his chest. "I don't trust you around this gas stove. Tell me, what do Bunsen burners run on again?"

Mattsun elbows him.

"Hey now, no need to get violent over a little gas problem," Makki pipes up. His next words get muffled because Pebbles decides to settle directly on his face. "It happens to the best of us."

"God you're the worst." Mattsun makes his way over to him, crouches down and lifts Pebbles off his face.

"Yeah, but you love me." Makki smirks up at him, face flushed.

Mattsun's whole being seems to catch on that sentence, a snag on his conscious by some stray spike of emotion. "I do." He thinks he smiles, but he doesn't know how sappy it comes out.

Makki's eyes widen and his mouth parts into a little "o" shape and Mattsun is suddenly and inexplicably terrified.

He stands up sharply, and he can feel Makki's and Oikawa's gazed stuck on him, and Iwaizumi's refusal to look at him seems even more pointed than those.

"Get up off the floor, doofus," he says, breaking the spell.

Makki gestures, offended, to the two cats dozing on his stomach. "Excuse me? And disturb the slumber of these most royal of animals?"

"There's no way you're comfortable to lay on, you're a big bag of bones with some muscles slapped on."

Makki mock-gasps, hand fluttering in front of his face. "How dare you. I'll have you know anyone would be lucky to lay their head on this exquisite tummy pillow."

Oikawa pushes the cats off Makki's stomach and plops his head on the free spot.

Makki gapes.

Oikawa sits up. "I think I just bruised my ear."

Makki lunges up and grabs Oikawa in a headlock. "Oh I'm sorry, did I hurt your precious delicate ear with my _absolutely delicious rock-hard abs of steel-_ "

Mattsun has always liked Makki's laugh, low and from the belly. He's always liked Oikawa's laugh, his real laugh, bright and loud. And of course he's always liked Iwaizumi's laugh, rough but warm.

He doesn't really like his own- it's raspy and it can go uncomfortably high- but he thinks that maybe, blended together with the others' like this, he could come to like his laugh too.

He thinks maybe, with the others, he could come to like anything about himself.

If only they would all stop dancing around each other for _two seconds_...

 

 

"Wow, it's gonna get hella warm in here," Makki whispers, almost apologetic.

All four cats have climbed into their bed tonight. They love Makki the most, won't leave him alone (Oikawa's been pouting over being snubbed since dinner).

"It's fine," Mattsun murmurs. "Those two are the human furnaces of this barbershop quartet anyway." He jerks his head back at the bed on the other side of the room. He isn't facing it, but he can practically see Oikawa sticking his tongue out at him.

Makki snuffles a bit and huddles closer to Mattsun, nosing into his chest and sighing. "Yeah, you're like a fucking... Freezie Pop or something..." His hands creep up Mattsun's stomach.

Mattsun's entire body shivers, and not just because they're like two ice blocks on his bare skin. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, and yeah, shit, that was definitely a whimper at the end there.

Makki stares at him.

He stares right back.

"Goodnight, Hiro."

He lowers his head again. "Night, Issei."

The hands disappear and he flips to his other side.

_God damn it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> udfhgfhdhfhd I'm sorry this took so long ;0;)/


	7. 7. HANAMAKI- Sluice pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> upaithric: roofless; open to the sky

How many times are they going to dance to this tune?

The sun is too weak to do anything but layer the room in a delicate veil of red, turning everything purple and grey. It's early. Too early for Makki to be awake, and yet...

' _How many times?_ ' he wonders dully. ' _How many times do I have to go through this?_ ' He slides his arm up, and the blankets rustle dryly and Mattsun snuffles in his sleep, eyes crinkling, but he doesn't wake. He slips his fingers between Mattsun's and tries to pretend his heart doesn't hurt more every second that passes with his palm pressed flush to the back of his hand.

Mattsun likes Oikawa. It's so obvious. Makki feels stupid for never having seen it before, really.

Mattsun's fingers curl over his own.

Makki wonders how he ever thought he had a chance. All those times they- well. The _two times_ they kissed for practice apparently only meant that. Practice. Practice so Mattsun could do well when he kissed Oikawa.

But Oikawa likes Iwaizumi. Makki doesn't think he's even aware of it, wallowing as he is in the despair of his last shattered relationship. He can't get a reading on Iwaizumi. He treats everyone the same, and Makki wonders if he doesn't like any of them. That would lead to Oikawa getting his heart broken, which would lead to Mattsun getting his heart broken, which would lead to... more heartbreak for Makki. At least he'd be used to it by then.

Mattsun's eyebrows wrinkle together and he squirms in his sleep, pulling Makki closer. Makki holds his breath.

He wonders why then, if Mattsun doesn't return his feelings, he acts like this. Over and over again, he brings Makki close only to push him away. Then they dip, and spin, and slide back to where they started to dance the whole thing once more.

_"You love me."_

_"Yeah, I do."_

They're endlessly waltzing in an empty ballroom to the same dusty tune, and Makki doesn't know if it would be kinder to let the record player die on its own or to take an axe and cleave it in two.

Mattsun snores softly against his hair.

Makki lets out the breath he had been holding.

Iwaizumi mumbles something in his sleep, and Oikawa sighs.

Outside, the birds chirps drowsily at one another. The leaves rustle and whisper. The wind is carefree, stirring up near-inaudible little whistles when it hits the corner of the cabin or when it gets tangled in tree branches.

Despite all of that, it's quiet up here.

Makki doesn't have anything real to distract him from the cacophony in his head.

He doesn't fall back asleep either.

 

  
"We're going fishing," Iwaizumi declares, with a rod in each hand and no room for argument in his expression.

"Alright," Mattsun agrees lazily, loping over to the door to pull his shoes on. "It's a nice day for that."

Oikawa crinkles his nose from his seat on the stairs, where he'd been catching up on his emails. "I'll catch some but I'm not touching one after that."

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, switching his rods to one hand and tugging a baseball cap on with the other. His hair sticks out the back. "You'll eat a fortune's worth of sushi but you won't touch a fish you caught yourself."

Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him.

Mattsun grins at the face, turning to share a look with Makki. _What a pair of idiots,_ it says fondly.

Makki smiles back and pretends his heart isn't breaking.

  
The grass is wet with dew and soaks their shoes as they trample through the forest, following the distant roar of the river.

"Do you even know where we're going?" Makki asks, panting slightly. The early morning sun isn't unbearable but they've been walking nonstop over uneven ground for a while now, and everyone's getting a little tired.

"Of course I know where we're going," Iwaizumi barks in a way that clearly says he doesn't, actually. "How hard could it be to find a river? It cuts straight through the forest. We'll run into it."

"In a couple days," Oikawa mutters under his breath.

"You're welcome to go sit around on your ass back at the cabin, _your highness_ ," Iwaizumi snaps. Oikawa glares at him and angrily opens his mouth to retort.

"Hey, hey." Mattsun centers himself between the two of them. "The water's getting louder every step we take, we're almost there. Let's not lose it, alright?" Oikawa and Iwaizumi huff, but fall silent all the same. Makki is absurdly reminded of a marriage counselor.

Then he stops moving.

Mattsun continues walking between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, black curls bouncing with every step. It looks... natural. It looks right for him to be there, with the two of them. They look perfect.

Makki's feet and tongue feel like lead.

They look so perfect without him.

Iwaizumi glances over his shoulder, and his forehead wrinkles. "Hey, you okay?" he calls back.

Makki shakes himself out of it and grits his teeth in what he thinks might be a reassuring smile. "Yeah, sorry!" He jogs back up to loop an arm around Iwaizumi's shoulder. "Was Iwa-chan worried about me?" he teases.

Matssun's eyes bore holes into the side of his head.

Iwaizumi grouses and throws him off. "Get off me, you're like a furnace."

Makki huffs a laugh and pulls away, letting a finger trail over the muscles of Iwaizumi's shoulder as he moves. Just to press his luck. He has nothing to lose, after all.

Iwaizumi, almost imperceptibly, shivers, and Makki knows he's fooling himself but he indulges in his imagination and pretends the backs of Iwaizumi's ears redden. He knows it's really the heat. They were already pink. But for just a second, he'd like to lie. It makes it easier.

Mattsun has his eyebrows drawn together like he always does when Makki tries to lie to him.

Makki doesn't like that he doesn't know exactly what Mattsun thinks he's lying about.

The silence that falls over them is not quite comfortable. For a solid ten minutes, all Makki can hear is birdsong, the squish of grass and the crunch of sticks under their shoes, and the gurgle of the river getting steadily louder as they trample onward.

Makki distantly wonders how Hayato is doing, how things might be different if they'd stayed together. If he'd be as miserable on such a beautiful day as he is now. If he'd even be here.

But that's the past, and this is now, and Makki is here. They're all here.

Before he can get even more lost in his thoughts, they arrive. Like curtains, the trees part and give view to a steep hill, sloping down to the valley of the crystalline water of the river. White spray flares over the rocks in the bed a long way off, over a squat little waterfall where the river starts to travel down the mountain, but where they are now the water is slower.

They're all here.

Iwaizumi and Mattsun whoop, throwing their hands in the air, and Oikawa exhales in exaggerated relief. Mood greatly lifted, Makki runs forward and hooks Mattsun's arm with his own, who isn't fazed in the slightest when Makki keeps going along with his momentum and all but drags him down to the water- then straight into it.

It's cold, and deeper than he thought, but it feels so good that he can't stop an exhilarated laugh from bursting out of him.

He whirls around to face Mattsun- they'd been unhooked when they splashed in- and suddenly finds himself face to face with him.

He freezes.

Sweat and river water intermingle in scattered droplets all over Mattsun's sunkissed skin, clinging to his arms and legs and his lowered eyelashes. _'He's looking right at my lips,'_ Makki realizes numbly, and the space between their noses and chests is searingly hot, even as the river chills their legs. Makki feels feverish. Mattsun is very, very close and Makki is very, very dizzy.

_'Oh, fuck, I want to kiss him.'_

Mattsun's fingers skitter along the back of his hand and Makki lets them trail up his arm to tuck his hair behind his ear. It's been getting long. He can't take in air as well as he could five seconds ago. Mattsun's breath fans out over his nose and mouth. Makki's fight-or-flight response kicks in and he fights it down with all the desperation of a man dying of dehydration, finally dragging himself to an oasis.

"Hey," Mattsun murmurs.

"Hey," Makki rasps. Mattsun's hand is still resting curled around his head. His hands are always so cold. It burns.

"You gonna kiss me?" Mattsun chuckles.

Makki parts his lips to respond but words have abandoned him. He can feel his heartbeat behind his eyes. He can't tear his gaze away from Mattsun's, that rich brown searching Makki like he's just waiting for the go-ahead.

Is this a joke?

Mattsun's brows furrow and that look in his eyes flickers out of existence. He takes half a step back. "Hey, you don't... you don't have to freak out about it," he says, haltingly.

Makki is suddenly aware of what expression he must be making- shocked, suspicious, confused. His heart is going a mile a minute.

Mattsun takes another step back and rakes a hand through his messy hair. "Forgot about it," he mutters, awkward and embarrassed.

Makki can't move. The water flows ceaselessly around him as Mattsun slinks away like a dog with his tail between his legs. Iwaizumi is giving them a weird look. Oikawa keeps biting his lip like he does when he's nervous. Mattsun is snappish and snatches a fishing rod to skulk off further down the river, head in his hand.

Makki is getting cold.

What the fuck is going on with all of them?

The water swirls.

The sun shines.

The birds sing.

The puffy cotton clouds drift lazily across the sky.

Time passes.

Iwaizumi is teaching Oikawa how to use a fishing rod, exasperatedly rearranging his hands every five seconds as Oikawa repeatedly loses his grip.

There are frogs in the reeds, quietly croaking at one another.

Makki's shoes are probably ruined by now.

Mattsun's caught a fish, if his yell of triumph is anything to go by. "Set it on that rock over there," Iwaizumi calls to him, pointing at a dry, flattish boulder to his left. Mattsun sloshes his way over, now barefoot in the silt-bottomed river. The sounds around Makki echo strangely on their way over to his ears, making everything sound simultaneously farther away and closer than they really are, but the rush of the water is omnipresent, engulfing. He focusses on that. Everything else drifts past his conscious like an oversaturated dream.

_"You love me."_

_"Yeah, I do."_

The river laps at his knees.

_"Goodnight, Hiro."_

_"Goodnight, Issei."_

Mattsun likes both Makki _and_ Oikawa.

Now what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :0c


	8. HANAMAKI - Sluice pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> neomorphic: developed suddenly and not inherited

Iwaizumi builds a fire in the pit out behind the cabin and they eat roasted fish over rice that night. It's absolutely delicious. Makki finds himself immensely disappointed when the last of the grease is licked from his fingers and all that's left of the fish are the parts that are sorely inedible. They throw the waste far into the forest, then return back to the smokey fire to keep away the mosquitoes.

The cats are seen sneaking off after them later, phantoms of the night.

Mattsun and Iwaizumi are chatting about something or another, Makki's not really listening, and Oikawa is staring into the fire, knees tucked under his chin. Makki's not much better off, except he's staring at Oikawa and the way the light flickers and dances about his long nose and sharp jaw. He's very pretty, Makki muses, in an angular sort of way. He has a lot of edges, hardly any softness except for when he's let his guard down. Right now he hasn't. Makki wonders why.

He sticks his foot out and taps at Oikawa's chair with the toe of his sandal.

Oikawa starts, spine straightening as he quickly looks up to meet Makki's questioning gaze.

"What's on your mind?" Makki asks softly.

Oikawa bites his lip, eyes flitting back to the fire, and fidgets with his shoelaces. "Nothing," he says.

Makki waits.

"Nothing big," Oikawa amends after a moment, like Makki knew he would.

"So there is something."

Oikawa breathes hard through his nose as he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. "Just the same as always."

Her.

"I see," Makki says, very quietly. Then, tentatively, he reaches out and hooks his pinky through Oikawa's. Oikawa opens one eye to stare at it. "You don't have to keep it all to yourself, you know? You can talk to me about it."

Oikawa snorts. "You sound like Iwa-chan."

Iwaizumi looks over from across the fire. "What?"

"Nothing, Hajime, we're just talking shit about you," Oikawa says, trying for playful but coming out tired.

Mattsun gives a pointed look to Makki and his pinky. Makki tries not to think about it.

"Let's go," he says suddenly, standing up, fingers still linked tight.

Oikawa blinks. "Makki, its- it's almost midnight."

"Let's just go. On a walk. You and me." Makki looks at everything except for a face. "You're not going to fall asleep soon anyway."

Oikawa silently complies and stands up, though he's clearly wary.

"See you guys later." Makki nods firmly in Iwaizumi and Mattsun's direction, still not making eye contact, and begins to march Oikawa back into the forest.

The moon proves to be a rather poor light source as soon as they fall out of range of the campfire. Makki wishes he had thought to go grab a flashlight, but it wasn't like he'd planned this midnight excursion anyway.

They only walk for about four minutes before Oikawa slips his pinky free and stops, crossing his arms and squinting at Makki. "Why are we here."

Makki feels his nerves start to crawl into his stomach and laughs, high-pitched. "Ah. I don't know."

Oikawa looks at him for a heartbeat, then sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his stupid, perfectly straight nose. "If you don't have a f-"

"I wanted to ask you something," Makki blurts. He's sweating.

Oikawa's words die in his throat. He drops his hand. "I- alright. Shoot."

 _What the fuck am I doing?_ "Do you like Issei?"

Oikawa blinks.

Makki wants to pull his own hair out.

Then Oikawa flushes a brilliant red, or at least Makki assumes, because it's dark but Oikawa's face has definitely gotten even darker and now he's stammering out bits and pieces of words like he's forgotten how to talk.

"I- you- Iss- Matts- I don't- I- how did-? How did you-?"

"What?"

Oikawa's shoulders are so, so tense. "How did you know?"

Makki feels his stomach drop through his feet. "How did I know?" he parrots faintly.

"You- you didn't know-" and now Oikawa looks horrified.

"I didn't know." Makki's brain has entered a thick fog. Fighting his way through, he dimly registers that he may need to ask the rest of his questions before Oikawa gets too high strung and runs away. "But he's not the only one you like, right? You like Hajime too."

Oikawa opens and closes his mouth. Nothing comes out.

Makki's ears are ringing so loud he can't even hear the crickets surrounding them.

Oikawa shifts to the right and suddenly he's in a small patch of moonlight, just one stream of it that shears down over his right eye and cuts across his lips, dripping down over his chest and leg like the liquified blade of a rapier.

"I think I like all three of you," Oikawa whispers.

Makki feels goosebumps erupt up his arms. "I think I like all three of you, too," he breathes back. He takes a step forward.

Oikawa takes a step back.

Makki freezes.

"Don't," Oikawa croaks.

Makki can feel it like a wave, starting up behind his throat.

"Don't- I don't want you."

It crests.

"It won't... it won't lead anywhere good. I'm better off not doing this again." He turns. He clenches his fists.

"I'm better off without you."

He walks away.

It crashes down.

Makki sinks to the ground, buries his face in his knees, and cries.

 

  
"Shit," he hears someone swear off in the distance. The sound of pounding footsteps gets closer and closer. Makki just wants to stay in the safety of his jacket sleeves, soaked with tears but big enough to hide his face.

"Makki," someone is begging, tugging at his arms, but Makki won't budge. He feels like lead. Like whatever made him light had been ripped out of him.

It's Iwaizumi. "Makki- Takahiro, please stand up. It's one in the morning, you have to come inside, _please_ -"

Makki peers up. His eyes feel dry and swollen.

"Fucking hell," Iwaizumi swears again. "The fuck did that idiot fucking say to you?"

"He said he doesn't want me in his life, he's better off without me," Makki mumbles. Numb.

Iwaizumi's eyes widen, and maybe Makki would have found it funny if he could feel anything. "He didn't."

Makki just looks up at him tiredly. "Why would I lie about that?"

Iwaizumi's hands tighten painfully around his arms as he roughly yanks Makki to his feet. "I swear to _god_ I'm beating his ass, who the _fuck_ does he think he is, saying shit like that, he doesn't even-" he throws Makki's arm over his shoulders and holds on tight to Makki's waist- "god, fuck, you know he probably doesn't even mean it, right?"

Makki trudges forward. "I don't know."

Iwaizumi is silent for the next minute, desperately trying to drag Makki forward faster to get him into a bed as soon as possible. "Do you know what happened between him and that bitch Maiko?" he asks suddenly, just as the cabin comes back into sight.

"She dumped him and he was all depressed about it, that's all I know." Makki doesn't even care anymore.

Iwaizumi turns to look at him as he rattles the sliding door open. "She abused the living hell out of him," he says bluntly.

Makki trips inside, brain not quite processing that right. Iwaizumi closes the door behind them, his back to Makki as he stares outside and keeps talking.

"Told him he was shit. That he was a bitch. That he was always doing something wrong. That he was lucky she stayed with him and his worthless ass."

Something red-hot and angry stirs in Makki's lungs.

Iwaizumi's hands are shaking. "I know that doesn't excuse anything that he said. But if I'm right, you asked him if he liked someone, right?"

"Yeah," Makki whispers.

"That's about all he let on about." Iwaizumi turns back. "He's terrified out of his mind."

Makki picks at his jacket. "He didn't have to say that to me, though," he mumbles, voice cracking.

"I- _fuck_ , Makki, I _know_ ," Iwaizumi says helplessly. "I'm still going to beat his ass for that. I'm not trying to excuse him. I'm just- I really don't think he meant it."

He steps closer, and, after an awkward hesitation, gathers Makki in his arms. His head only comes up to Makki's nose. "I'm sorry he did that to you," he whispers. "I just. I can't imagine him ever meaning that. Not about you."

"I can't imagine it either," Makki rasps. He clutches tight to the back of Iwaizumi's shirt. He smells like rich woodsmoke. "I think... I think we all need to talk. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Iwaizumi agrees. He tugs himself away, but keeps one hand on the small of Makki's back. "Let's go to bed."

 

  
Makki stumbles into bed, nearly kneeing Mattsun in the stomach. The blankets rustle as Mattsun turns on his side to face him, hair already mussed from the pillows. "Hey," he says hoarsely.

"Hey." Makki buries himself into Mattsun's chest. It's warm. He can feel his heartbeat against his lips.

Mattsun says nothing, just pulls the blanket over Makki and holds him tight until he falls asleep.

And for now that's all Makki wants.

For now, that's all he can take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh.
> 
> well that's the end of the first arc yall


	9. OIKAWA - Sallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quatern- arranged in fours

Oikawa gets up at three in the morning, takes one look at Makki across the room, and stumbles to the bathroom to throw up everything he'd eaten that day.

The guilt crawls like centipedes up his stomach as it empties itself violently into the toilet. His mouth is sticky and burning. His hands slip on the cold porcelain with all the sweat they're slicking onto it. His knees dig into the unforgiving wood floor, his bad knee even harder than the other.

"I deserve it," Oikawa mumbles to himself, feverish and disgusting. "I deserve it."

"Oikawa?" someone calls for him, a long way above his head. Or so it seems.

The door clicks open and there's a soft but sharp inhalation, then gentle hands guiding him to sit back against at wall, still hunched on the floor, and flushing the toilet. Oikawa stares numbly at his angrily red knees. A damp towel swipes at his mouth, once, twice, then over his forehead on the other side.

It smells awful in here.

Iwaizumi sits heavily next to him. His head thuds against the wall. Oikawa peeks up at him. The bags under his eyes are a deep purple, and he's got a wrinkle in between his brows that doesn't look to be going away anytime soon.

"I'm sorry," Oikawa says.

"It's not me you should be saying that to," Iwaizumi responds quietly. He reaches up and brushes some of Oikawa's sweat-plastered bangs away from his eyes. "Do you want any medicine?"

"No."

"Water?"

"No."

Iwaizumi closes his eyes and leans his head back again, and is silent for so long Oikawa starts to wonder if he's fallen asleep.

"Are you going back to sleep anytime soon?"

Oikawa jumps a little at that. "Probably not." He picks under his fingernails idly.

"What did Makki ask you, anyway?"

Oikawa's fingers stagger and accidentally tear at his cuticle a little too hard. "Ah..."

"You don't have to tell me now."

Oikawa laughs without humor and watches a drop of blood lazily well up against his nail. "Don't I, though?"

"Do you?"

Oikawa looks at him. "Do I?"

He sometimes forgets how startlingly clear Iwaizumi's eyes are. A steely green, they're bright but shadowed in a way that reminds Oikawa of the river they'd fished in yesterday. Deceptively light.

"I think you should."

Oikawa shifts a little. The dingy light of the bathroom makes Iwaizumi's skin look a sickly yellow. He wonders how awful he must look, pale and sweaty and sick, and wonders why Iwaizumi is still looking at him like that despite his appearance.

He kind of already knows, though.

He kind of always knew.

"He asked me if I liked Mattsun."

Iwaizumi remains impassive.

"I said yes."

Iwaizumi's nails scrape a little on the floor where his hands are struggling to stay still.

"Then he asked me if I liked you," Oikawa whispers.

Iwaizumi licks his lips nervously. "Did you answer him?"

Oikawa leans in, shaking. "I said I like all three of you."

Iwaizumi stares. One hand can't hold itself back and, as if he were handling glass, it sets itself tentatively on Oikawa's bad knee. "And then what?"

"I was mean." Oikawa feels the twisted grin curl his lips up, feels the rest of his face crumple in on itself. "Pushed him away."

"Why?" It's almost inaudible. Oikawa feels more of it as breath on his nose than than he hears it.

"I can't do this again, Hajime." He's so aware of Iwaizumi's hand in his knee it's painful. His ribs feel two times too small.

"But you want to."

"I..." Their foreheads touch.

"It's okay," Iwaizumi murmurs. "It's okay to want." Their noses fit beside each other. "I want it too."

Oikawa shudders and kisses him, just once.

Then he drops his head against Iwaizumi's shoulder and shakes with tears he's too tired to even form, and lets Iwaizumi rub his back until the tremours stop, lets him force a glass of water down his parched and acid-burned throat, lets him carry him back to bed and lets him kiss him again, on the cheek, before he passes out.

The guilt is still there, in that he hasn't apologized to Makki yet, and that he's gone and kissed Iwaizumi in what feel like a traitorous move against someone he pushed away just hours before.

_"It's okay to want."_

Oikawa closes his eyes and breathes in, out, in, out. Slow and deep.

He wants Iwaizumi, and Mattsun, and _god_ yes, he wants Makki. And from what he knows, he can have them.

But he is terrified of letting himself have them. History repeats itself and he cannot allow that to happen here. He trusts the three of them, with his life even, but the fear that had been planted as a seed into his heart had grown into a thicket that hurts him to pull away. Oikawa wants to pull it away. He doesn't want what she had done to him to stay.

But it stays. And it grows. And Oikawa finds some of the leaves pushing out of his mouth every once in a while, emaciated, spiny black things and he sounds like her sometimes and he is scared of that the most.

"I'm better off without you." How many times had she said as much? And now he says it to Makki?

He doesn't know if Makki will forgive him for that.

He's not even sure if he wants Makki to forgive him.

"It's okay to want," Oikawa mumbles to himself.

But what does he want?

"I want to be happy," he breathes.

_So let yourself be happy._

It's not that easy, Oikawa wants to argue with himself. But exhaustion is finally taking over, kicking the overthinking pilot out of his mind and tipping him into a nosedive straight toward a fitful sleep.

 

 

He wakes up to an empty room. The sunlight blinds him as soon as he cracks his eyes open, white-hot and forceful. He sits up. There's a glass of water on the bedside table.

It smells like pancakes.

The events of the previous night- morning?- seep back into Oikawa's memory and something akin the the pain of a needle pierces his chest. He swallows roughly, then, after a beat, grabs the glass and downs the whole thing in one go.

Time to go see if he can salvage what he broke, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all wanted a kiss so I have graciously granted you one (1) smooch from Oikawa, who had just puked his guts out, to Iwaizumi. Please enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> (Also I know this chapter title doesn't have "pt 1," there will be another Oikawa chapter as the pattern has so far dictated but it will have a different title entirely instead of being "Sallow pt 2")
> 
> ***edit: the next chapter may or may not be in Oikawa's POV since I realized like five hours after posting this it was supposed to be Iwaizumi next but I already wrote the whole thing lmaoooo


	10. OIKAWA - Metamorphosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yen - craving or yearning

The first thing Oikawa sees and smells when he makes his way downstairs is the giant stack of pancakes on the dining room table. Makki has taken a seat and is demolishing three of them at once, absolutely stuffing his face and refusing to look up from his plate.

Oikawa swallows the lump in his throat and takes the seat adjacent to Makki's.

Makki pauses, almost imperceptibly, before continuing to gorge himself, like he's trying to drown his emotions in syrup. Maybe he is.

Oikawa forces half a pancake down, but finds he can't bring himself to eat much more than that. So he just waits until Makki is done with his stack.

Iwaizumi and Mattsun are in the kitchen, murmuring quietly between themselves as they clean. Iwaizumi glances back at Oikawa and catches his gaze. Oikawa holds it.

Iwaizumi's eye flick over to Makki, who's finished eating, and Oikawa knows it's time.

"Hanamaki..?" he says softly. The sun from the sliding glass door is too hot on his face, and he can feel a little bit of sweat drip down his neck, even though the rest of him feels cold.

"Yeah?"

Oikawa doesn't know what to say next. On a whim, trying to buy himself some time to think, he reaches out and hooks his pinky through Makki's. It's sticky.

Makki stares at it, then lifts his head to look right at Oikawa, steadfast, breath held tight in his chest.

This is probably going to be the hardest part.

"I'm sorry," Oikawa blurts.

...or not.

Makki's lips purse into a thin line. His head drops down again. But his grip on Oikawa's finger tightens, and the movement gives Oikawa the push he needs to keep going.

"I said something really, really... nasty... and I regret it. So much." He scoots closer. Makki doesn't move away. "I can't believe I said something like that to you, I- I can't-" He finally falters. "Looking back, it's- I know I can't take it back but it's- it didn't feel like me saying it. Do you- does that make sense? It was like- I was caught so off-guard, and I- I didn't know what to say and I just-" His heart constricts painfully. "I'm sorry," he says again. "Please forgive me. I didn't mean it at all. I would never mean it."

Makki is quiet for a long time. Oikawa can feel the tension radiating from Iwaizumi and Mattsun in the kitchen, can tell they're not sure if they really belong there but not wanting to draw attention to themselves by leaving.

" _God_ , Oikawa," Makki whispers finally. Oikawa's breath catches. "Of course I forgive you. I _love_ you."

Oikawa feels time freeze around him. Seconds crystallize and throw light back into his face as Makki's confession echoes in his ears alongside a sound like glass raindrops hitting each other.

Iwaizumi has dropped a cup into the sink.

"That's why it hurt so much," Makki mutters.

"I-" Oikawa's voice leaves alongside the word. He numbly watches as Makki's fingers slip away, only to come back and re-tangle themselves.

He's holding his hand.

"I think we all ought to talk," Makki says a little louder, angling his head back to look at the two standing dumbstruck in the kitchen. "Preferably now."

Iwaizumi and Mattsun awkwardly make their way over, sitting stiffly in their seats.

Oikawa is still staring like an idiot at his and Makki's hands.

No one really knows where to start.

"So uh," Mattsun begins, then seems to lose his place in his thoughts, and helplessly opens and closes his mouth, nothing else coming out.

"So Oikawa and I have established that the both of us... like... each other. Romantically. And you two, too." Makki fidgets with the hem of his shirt. "I guess that's where we're at. Would be nice to know where the two of you are."

Iwaizumi's mouth is open like a fish. Oikawa almost feels like giggling at it but his heart has climbed up his throat and is blocking the way.

"Oh, yeah, I like all three of you," Mattsun says easily.

"Wh- you do?!"

"Hajime," Mattsun deadpans. "I was the most obvious out of all four of us."

"I guess that's true," Iwaizumi says faintly.

Oikawa's chest suddenly feels tight. He knows Iwaizumi must at least like him, they did kiss after all, but what if he doesn't-

"I like all three of you too."

-oh.

Silence falls across them. Oikawa's hand is getting way too sweaty but Makki is holding way too tight for him to pull it away.

"Now what?" Mattsun finally asks, bringing to words what they'd all been thinking.

"I don't know," Iwaizumi leans back and laces his hands behind his head. "We all like each other, I guess we could date..?"

"All four at once?" Oikawa can't quite wrap his mind around that.

"Yeah?" Iwaizumi glances at him quizzically. "How else would we do it?"

"I- uh- I don't know." Oikawa is suddenly aware of his heartbeat, and the fact that it's too fast.

There's just no fucking way they can all date.

"So do you- do you want to be dating us?" Mattsun asks Iwaizumi.

_Say no. Say no. Oh fuck please say no please don't say you're willing to risk losing this-_

"I... yeah." Iwaizumi smiles. It's tiny. But it's there.

"No," is what slips out of Oikawa's mouth.

All three of them turn to look at him, confused.

"What?" Iwaizumi's chair clunks back onto four legs as he leans forward. "You- you don't want to?"

Oikawa is burning. It's too hot. "I can't," he whispers. His vision is blurring.

"Why c-" Iwaizumi starts, too loud, but Mattsun shushes him and rests a hand on Oikawa's knee. His good one.

"We're not going to be like Amano-san," Mattsun says gently. "I know you know that."

Oikawa bites his lip in a poor attempt to keep boiling hot tears at bay. One slips free. "I know," he says, voice cracking. "But it's still..."

"It's scary, isn't it?" Makki says.

Oikawa nods. He feels Iwaizumi's eyes on him, and lifts his head.

Iwaizumi's eyes are wide, his lips parted, and all over his face is an emotion Oikawa can't begin to describe. It's like pity but it's also not the least bit anything like pity, it's like sadness but it's much too subtle, and it's like understanding but there is not really anything new about him for Iwaizumi to understand.

"Are you afraid of losing us?" Iwaizumi questions breathlessly, finally putting two and two together.

Oikawa hates crying. He's done it far too much lately. But he does it again, because he can't stand hearing it in someone else's voice.

That this could be what tears them apart in the end.

He has seven exes. He does not talk to any of them. Especially not Maiko-chan.

Endings of relationships are all so... _different_. Some are predictable, like with Mari, and with Ryuu. Soft endings to soft relationships that had no more substance than cotton candy. Not much to cry about.

Some are _not_ predictable. Umi's outburst still haunts him sometimes, still shows up when he gets low enough, though lately she's been fading. Touma maybe he should have seen coming, but he can't change that he simply didn't. And Sousuke's was just out of the blue. Everything was going fine- until it apparently wasn't. Oikawa still hasn't found out why, but it was a long time ago, and he barely remembers what Sousuke even looks like now anyway.

And some relationships end in ways everyone but he and his love-blind eyes should have seen coming, if they only knew what was happening behind the scenes. Kosei was a secret, and so he didn't think much of it when he showed no affection in public. But when he withdrew in privacy as well... Oikawa should have just given up earlier, instead of pushing himself until he couldn't take the imbalance anymore and broke up with Kosei himself.

That wasn't the one that really stuck with him, though. It was the one that came after him.

Amano Maiko.

Just hearing her name is enough to set him on edge.

"Hey- Oikawa- you still with us?" Makki's voice wavers into his conscious.

"Y-yeah." He feels shaky.

If they get together, he can't even _imagine_ how devastating the break-up is going to be.

"Oi- Tooru," Iwaizumi calls his attention back.

"What?"

"Do you really not want to date us?"

Oikawa blinks and watches a tear get flung onto the table.

"I don't want to pressure you," Iwaizumi hastily adds. "And it's okay if you can't like... handle something like that now. I know what you've been through. I just- I want to know if you- if you actually don't want to, or if you're just not ready to."

Oikawa doesn't know how to answer.

"You don't have to answer now either."

_It's okay to want. It's okay to want. It's okay to want._

_"I want to be happy."_

"I... I want... I want that. I want y- all of you." Oikawa lets the words fall out. "If you'll have me."

"I'll have you," Mattsun says.

Iwaizumi reaches over and rests his hand on Oikawa's and Makki's. "I will too."

"Me too." Makki grins softly. "Hey. Look at me."

Oikawa does.

"I love you."

"I-"

Lips press to his ear- it's Mattsun. "I love you as well, Tooru."

Oikawa chokes. He and Iwaizumi hold a feverish eye contact.

"I love you too," Iwaizumi says fiercely.

Oikawa finally pulls his hands free so he can hide his face in them as he both laughs and starts bawling his eyes out.

Someone pulls him to his feet- Makki, maybe- and someone else is saying "to the couch, then? How else are we supposed to all hold each other and cry" and someone is holding his hand but he can't see because he is crying too hard to even open his eyes.

Oikawa's jostled into a sitting position on the living room couch, and pulled to someone's chest. Iwaizumi's. He'd know that stupid cheap pine deodorant he's worn since sixth grade anywhere. Mattsun presses to his other side, and even without looking Oikawa knows it must be him because of how low the voice rumbling against his back is, how uniquely Mattsun it feels. Makki, he assumes, must be on Iwaizumi's other side, because that's where his voice is coming from.

"Just for the record, I know Tooru took the spotlight for a while here, but I love you, too."

They're telling each other they love them, right over his head.

Oikawa feels the tears slow, and hiccups into Iwaizumi's collarbone. Iwaizumi's arm tightens around his waist.

The declarations end soon enough, and the four of them stay cramped on the springy couch, silent except for scattered sniffles.

"So..." Mattsun nuzzles into the back of Oikawa's neck. "Are we all dating yet?"

_Just go for it._

"I think so," Oikawa says, shifting around to face him properly. "Do you two think so?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck yes."

The smile on Mattsun's face is blinding.

Oikawa kisses it.

"Woah." He hears Makki's breath hitch.

He pulls away and turns back to Iwaizumi, grabbing his face and planting a solid kiss on his mouth, too.

And then it's Makki's turn. He looks nervous.

Oikawa is suddenly very, very determined to make that go away. He clambers over Iwaizumi and slides his hands up into Makki's shaggy hair, making him tip his head up as Oikawa stands over him on his knees and presses their lips together.

Makki's hands twitch at his sides, only able to hold back until Oikawa licks across his bottom lip. Then they come flying up to grip at his back as he gasps and lets Oikawa's tongue swipe across the roof of his mouth and under his own tongue before slowly breaking away.

Oikawa rests his forehead against Makki's, feels the slow and steady pulse of his heart back in his chest where it belongs. Feels their hands on each other's bodies where they belong.

Feels the warm and solid presence of the three men close to him, where they all belong.

Oikawa is finally where he is supposed to be. His smile is hurting his cheeks. Makki is giggling softly, their breath mingling. "I love you," Oikawa finally says, just because he can.

"Hell yeah you do," Makki says, and fits their mouths together again.

And if Oikawa really does spend the whole day swapping spit with his three best friends in the entire world, well, that's his business, isn't it?

 

  
"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" Iwaizumi stomps into the bedroom, toothbrush still hanging from his mouth.

Mattsun and Oikawa look up, caught in the act.

"Moving the bed over to your's and Tooru's," Mattsun answers. "Hiro said he wanted to sleep together."

"Wh- Matsukawa Issei, this was all _your_ idea, you fucking dork," Makki berates from across the room, pulling on a sleep shirt. "Don't go acting like you're just doing this for me."

Mattsun flushes, just the tiniest bit. "Yeah, alright, sue me, it was my idea."

Oikawa just rolls his eyes and goes back to pushing the bed across the floor by himself, rattling the whole way.

Mattsun whistles. "Damn, babe."

Oikawa feels his whole face go red. "Y-you could have helped."

"I was just admiring the view."

Oikawa slaps his arm on his way out the room, flustered. "You're insufferable." Mattsun just laughs at that.

After brushing his teeth, Oikawa makes his way back to the bedroom to find Mattsun and Iwaizumi already cuddling. Iwaizumi struggles to lift his head up from its comfortable arm-pillow, then settles back down and lazily holds out a hand for Oikawa to take.

Oikawa spreads himself like a starfish across the both of them.

"Jesus fucking- Shittykawa, you're _heavy_ ," Iwaizumi wheezes, trying and failing to push him off.

"Mm, you're so comfortable," Oikawa mumbles, pretending to fall asleep.

"I swear to- Issei, give him a Wet Willy or something."

"I would, but my arms are unfortunately still around you, darling," Mattsun says dryly.

"Then just stick your tongue in his ear."

"What if he likes that though?"

"You're so gross," Oikawa groans, rolling off of them at the same time that Makki shuffles in, yawning.

Oikawa decides to settle for pressing his back against Iwaizumi's, and opens his arms up. Makki happily climbs into them, wrapping his own arms tight around Oikawa's waist.

"Well-" Iwaizumi interrupts himself with a giant yawn. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," they all echo back, and fall silent. The only sound now is breathing, the ever-present chirp of far-away crickets and the creak of old wood.

Oikawa shuffles so that Makki's arm is under his head, and tucks his nose up under Makki's jaw.

It feels like a dream, but he can feel himself falling asleep, so it must not be.

 

  
Oikawa wakes up with one of Iwaizumi's ice cold feet pressed to his calf and one of Makki's hands shoved so far up under his shirt it practically comes out the top.

He wouldn't change a thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOP THERE IT IS


	11. Interlude: Maiko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what really happened, Amano-san?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for abusive behavior and the f-slur used one time.
> 
> Tooru's ex is not a good person.
> 
> (This is the reason for the rating changing to M.)

She thinks about him, sometimes. Thinks about what she'd done to him.

She doesn't regret it, not really.

Nothing had happened to her. There had been no consequences for her actions, just his disappearance from her life. And even that was barely a punishment at this point.

She moves fast, shuffling from boy to boy like cards. They pass her in a blur, nothing of note. Just a way to keep her high going until she gets another hit.

She has another hit now. Tall, black hair, dark tan skin. He plays basketball. He's in love with her, he tells her sometimes. She says it back and she thinks it might be true but she doesn't really understand what love is. She worries she is lying.

But she figures she has always lied, and nothing has ever come of it. No one has ever called her out for it. So she supposes it doesn't really matter if she continues with this new one.

"You're lucky I'm still with you," she chides him. He was late to their date. He is always late and she can't really stand it but he lets her fuck him whenever she wants so she puts up with it.

Sometimes when it gets really late and the voices in her head get out of control she knows that it's wrong. She knows what she's doing and she knows it should make her feel sick but he loves her, he _loves_ her, and so that must make it okay, right? And she pushes the thoughts away for when she's sober and doesn't entertain them again until the next night she's awake and drunk on clarity.

She thinks maybe she misses Tooru. Tooru never let her fuck him, such a _prude_ , she called him, but he was so devoted and he showed her off at every oppourtunity, pouring attention over her like an anointment and she had never felt more like a god than with him.

That was what she had loved with Tooru. The heady, rose-red rush of pure power that he so willingly let her have over him. It was addictive. And he stayed. He actually stayed! She could say whatever the hell she wanted to him, could call him an idiot and careless and smelly and gross and dumb in front of her friends and he would just make an affronted noise and play it off. He never denied it.

But she was also careful to not exercise her rights as god in front of _his_ friends, because she knew they would take him away from her, which was just unacceptable.

And that was how their relationship worked. For a while, anyway.

Then one day she slipped up.

She doesn't like to think about what had happened, doesn't like to think about the time she messed up so badly she crushed her own crown in her fist and watched as her throne was splintered into a thousand pieces by the axe and anger of that fucking monster Iwaizumi Hajime.

She had gotten into the headspace she usually did when she and Tooru were alone at his house, and had completely forgotten that they weren't actually alone.

"Do you know the English word for-"

"No, stupid, why would I know that? You know I'm not good at English," she had huffed without looking up from her own homework. "You're always bringing up the things I'm not good at, do you want me to be depressed thinking about that?"

Tooru's eyes were the size of saucers. "I- no, of course not-"

"Then don't fucking bring that shit up! You're always doing that!"

"But- am I?"

He wasn't. He never did that. "You are! God, you're lucky I stay with you and your dumb ass. If it were anyone other than me they'd have gotten tired of you flaunting your superiority real fast."

"But I wasn't even- I was _asking_ you-"

"No, I don't want to hear it," she cut him off. "Just go be an idiot by yourself. Maybe if you finally man up and pull your dick out sometime this century I'll decide you're worth teaching English to."

He stayed silent.

The boy standing stock-still in the doorway to Tooru's bedroom, having just gotten back from the toilet, did not.

" _What the fuck?_ "

She felt the blood drain from her face.

"Tooru, what the f- Amano-san, what the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Ah-" Maybe luck was on her side, in that she didn't have to come up with an excuse since Iwaizumi Hajime bulldozed right over her.

"Are you actually serious right now? Tooru, what- does she talk like this to you all the time?"

She looked at him. He looked back. _Say no._

"No," he said. His voice shook horribly.  
  
"Don't fucking lie to me, you're a goddamn terrible liar," Iwaizumi hissed. He rounded on her, hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were literally white. "Are you actually insane? What the fuck makes you think you can talk to him like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like he's not worth the dirt on your shoes."

She stood up, pencil dropping from her slack fingers. "Don't tell me how to treat my boyfriend."

Suddenly Iwaizumi was not in the doorway. His face was half a foot away from her's and his fist was in the collar of her shirt and his fury was radiating off of him in waves. "If you don't want me to tell you how to treat him, then start treating him right, you fucking _bitch_."

"Get your hands off me!" she snarled, shoving him away. "And you stay out of this!"

"Abso-fucking-lutely not. You think I'm just gonna let you go on and keep treating Tooru like garbage as if I don't even care about him?"

" _I_ care about Tooru far more than you ever could!"

"Oh, do you now?" And he went dangerously quiet. "Do you?"

She felt the back of her shirt dampen with sweat. "Y... yes."

"I care about Oikawa Tooru more than anything on this fucking planet. If you really think I'm going to not do _anything_ about how you're treating my best friend, you have another thought coming."

Tooru's mouth was agape as he stared between them, and his whole body shook with fear. High on adrenaline, she let the first word she thought of push past her clenched teeth. "Faggot."

The next thing she knew she was in the hallway, slamming into the wall.

"Hajime, _no!_ "

"Don't worry," Iwaizumi growled, throwing her backpack into her chest. The air rushed out of her already bruised lungs and pain burst at the base of her skull. "I'm just getting her the fuck out of here."

She thought she was going to die, just looking into his eyes.

"If you even look at him again, _I'll fucking kill you._ "

She hoarsely sobbed, just once, scrabbled for her backpack, and ran down the stairs. She put her shoes on the wrong feet in her haste to escape and tripped and bloodied her knee on the road outside the house.

She never talked to Oikawa Tooru again.

She thanks her lucky stars, now, that he never let Iwaizumi tell people what happened. She guesses he probably doesn't want it to be known he's as much of a starry-eyed pushover as he really is.

She wonders where he is now, as she takes a seat with her boyfriend in the back row of the movies and laces their fingers together. He smiles at her, big and bright.

She smiles back.

Oh well. It doesn't really matter anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always liked the idea of interlude chapters. I had one in The Butterfly Effect, my last long multichapter fic. I also wanted to tell more of Oikawa's backstory, since it's been hinted at heavily throughout the story thus far. I just thought it would be interesting if Amano-san told it.
> 
> But uh... as an abuse victim myself, writing from an abuser's point of view is pretty unpleasant. So y'all probably won't hear much more from Amano-san.
> 
> I'm sure no one has many complaints about that though.


	12. MATSUKAWA- Slowly pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hapaxanthous: flowering only once

_Where the hell have the cats been?_

Mattsun has always been an early riser, and after somewhat successfully disentangling himself from the dogpile of boyfriends smothering him (Oikawa woke up but went back to sleep after Mattsun kissed him good morning), he ventured up to the attic to check on the cats. But they're not there.

His phone shines its bright flashlight onto the various cardboard boxes scrambled around under the sharply sloped roof. He's hit his head on that twice already.

He wonders how long the cats have been gone.

Mattsun's been shuffling some of the smaller, lighter boxes around in a half-assed attempt to see if there really is a secret passageway like Makki's paranoia suggested. But so far, there's nothing. Just wood planks and dust.

There's not even any cat hair, at least not any that Mattsun can see. That sits with him strangely, like an ice cube that hadn't melted by the time it reached his stomach.

There is no evidence at all of the cats even existing.

He gives up, climbs the ladder back downstairs, and checks his watch. 7:14 am. Still too early for anyone else to be anything but dead to the world. Idly, he entertains the idea of surprising his boyfriends with breakfast in bed, even though he can barely scramble an egg. Attempting to make enough food for four people would be nothing short of disastrous.

Oh well. Iwaizumi's the cook of this four-man band anyway.

Mattsun wanders downstairs to the kitchen anyway, trailing his hand listlessly against the countertops. He stares at his fingers, long and knobby and warm against the cool, smooth surface.

He has three boyfriends now.

The thought both elates and scares him.

Of _course_ he's happy, how could he not be? He's been wanting forever to take a step forward in their relationship- no, that's not right- to lead their relationship down a different path. Romantic partnerships are not some higher, evolved, or more important form of platonic partnerships, he reminds himself. But it's only when he's miles down the platonic path that he can even see the romantic one shimmering like a mirage in the distance, so sometimes it gets hard to remember.

It's the fact that it's a mirage that worries him.

Mattsun has never quite been able to determine exactly when he stumbles off the platonic path onto the romantic one. He thinks maybe everyone is, in some way, like this, but he can't help the nagging feeling of being different. That the blur between the two paths is too thick to be considered normal.

And so he always doubts whether or not what he feels is actually romantic. It plagues him, sometimes. When he first realized he had crossed that unseeable line with Makki, he overthought himself to exhaustion over it. Was it _real?_ Was it actually romantic feelings he was experiencing for Makki, or was it just deeper platonic affection? He realized he was, in fact, deeply romantically attracted to him after a while, but it took a lot of picking himself apart to get there.

And then he did it again with Iwaizumi, and _again_ with Oikawa.

He worries mostly that all that pain will prove to be false, that he'll wake up one day and suddenly be unable to feel what he once did. What he once fought to recognize feeling in the first place. It's irrational, of course, but still... falling out of love is not an experience foreign to Matsukawa Issei.

But he pushes that away. There's nothing he can do about that now. He and Yahaba are both on their separate paths now, and they're happier for it.

Mattsun hears someone shuffling around upstairs, the floorboards over his head creaking softly. Someone's awake and he fully intends to kiss them silly when they come downstairs, whoever they are.

A grin tugs the corner of his lips up.

Yeah, he's definitely much happier where he is now.

Makki comes yawning down, the hair on the back of his head sticking straight up. "You're up early," he comments, voice still raspy with sleep.

Mattsun shrugs. "I'm always up this early."

Makki blinks at him. "Are you? I never noticed you leaving the bed before."

"That's because you sleep like a log," Mattsun laughs. "A typhoon could roll through and you wouldn't even stir."

Makki wrinkles his nose as he steps delicately around something on the floor. Mattsun cranes his neck to see what it is and-

There are two cats right there.

He stares.

Makki stops making his way over to him. "What?" He glances down at his shirt. "Do I have something-"

"No, no, I just..." Mattsun trails off, then folds his arms. "Huh."

" _What_ , Issei?"

"I went up to the attic to look for the cats and they weren't there, so I just came downstairs to wait for you all to wake up, and I didn't even notice they were here."

Pumpkin- that's the orange one, right?- twists herself around Makki's ankles. Phantom purrs a few paces away.

"Mmm," Makki hums, clearly not as mystified by the whole thing as Mattsun is. "Well, you know how cats like this are. Only really around when they want to be."

"I guess," Mattsun says. Makki finally gets over to him and slips his arm around Mattsun's waist, resting his head against Mattsun's shoulder. "Good morning, by the way."

"Morning." And they just stand and watch the trees sway and the sun climb higher into the sky for a while.

Eventually Oikawa and Iwaizumi wake up as well, stumbling downstairs to join them. Iwaizumi pecks Mattsun on the cheek by way of greeting and bustles around getting everything ready to make omelettes.

"We need more eggs," Iwaizumi announces, digging around in the icebox.

"And toilet paper," chimes in Oikawa. He sounds a little too casual, by Mattsun isn't going to say anything about that.

"I'm running out of shampoo," Makki says, frowning slightly. "I thought I'd have enough to last the whole trip, but I guess not."

"Oh," Mattsun blurts. Self-consciously, he twirls some of his hair around his pointer finger. "I might have been stealing some now and then."

Makki gapes, and Oikawa laughs.

"Aww, did you want to smell like Makki?" he teases.

"He smells really good!" Mattsun defends.

"Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" Oikawa sighs wistfully. "Like someone took a baseball bat to the grocery store and just went to town in the jam isle."

"What the hell," Iwaizumi snorts. "Anyway. I guess I'll be making a trip down town to restock on some things, mostly food. Do any of you want to come with?"

"Yeah!" All three of them jump to attention at once.

Iwaizumi blushes a dark red. "O-okay then. We'll go after breakfast."

"It's a date!" Oikawa exclaims happily, and Mattsun's heart trips clumsily in his chest. He can really just be so cute sometimes...

 

Oikawa can _also_ be _really fucking exasperating_ sometimes, god _damn_.

"It's so hot!" he whines for what is probably the fourth time in ten minutes. Mattsun sees a tick start in Iwaizumi's temple. "Iwa-chan, this car is so junky."

Mattsun knows Oikawa gets irritated easily in the heat, and accepts that as just part of who he is, but _fuck_ if it isn't incredibly annoying right now.

"Tooru," he says calmly, trying to ignore the gross slickness of the sweat that's trailing from under his dark curly hair to the small of his back and pooling there. "Shut up."

"Meeeeaaaaaan," Oikawa moans pitifully. He fans himself with the neck of his shirt. It doesn't seem to be doing much. His long fingers scrabble and slip around the controls for the radio, eventually getting it tuned to that trashy pop station. Iwaizumi glances at him as he's doing it, once, but doesn't say anything. Anything that will placate Tooru at this point is fine by him, evidently.

Mattsun finds his own eyes glued to Tooru's fingers and his mind drifting off to the lacy black slip he found a few days ago in his closet.

He wonders what Tooru looks like when he's wearing it, and promptly overheats.

Makki touches his hand lightly from where he's sitting beside him in the back seat. "You okay?"

"I- uh- yeah," Mattsun mumbles eloquently. "'S hot, is all."

"Too hot to not make out in the back of the car?"

"Never too hot for that," Mattsun chuckles, delighting in the way Makki's eyes crinkle when he grins. He pulls Makki forward by the chin and kisses him squarely on the mouth, exhaling fast out his nose when Makki moves his hand to his thigh and kisses back.

He can feel both the burning presence of Oikawa's gaze and the pointed absence of Iwaizumi's as he tilts his head to the side and bites down on Makki's lower lip.

Makki whimpers softly. The sound bounces around in Mattsun's head, which feels like it's been stuffed with cotton. He reaches up with both hands and buries them in the scruffy hair above Makki's neck. Makki's nails scrape bluntly on the skin of his leg.

Iwaizumi hits a dip in the road and knocks their heads together.

Makki yelps and pulls away while Mattsun hisses and grabs at his forehead. It throbs in a dull, punch-drunk sort of way.

"Sorry," Iwaizumi says sheepishly. Some crooner or another warbling over blaring synths nearly drowns him out. "There's a lot of potholes here, so..."

Mattsun rubs away the pain and sits back up in his seat. "Try again later," he says lowly to Makki, who nods with a serious expression before cracking into an embarrassed but genuine smile.

It's infectious. Mattsun grins back.

Up in the front seat, Oikawa looks out the window with his hands folded in his lap, ears flushed red.

He does not complain about the heat for the rest of the drive down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't make out in the back of moving vehicles, kiddos


	13. MATSUKAWA - Slowly pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> venerence: vulnerability

Mattsun is staring at a shelf of condoms and all he can think, over and over, is 'we rushed into this.'

Oikawa and Makki are up at the counter, ringing up their purchases, and Iwaizumi's outside refilling the car's tank. Mattsun had wandered off on his own a few minutes after entering the little one-stop corner shop. It smells lonely in here. Gently used and out of the way.

'I don't really know what anyone else is expecting out of this.'

Ribbed for her pleasure!

'How the hell is this even going to work? Four people? What was I thinking?!'

Latex-free!

'Is this just going to crumble as soon as we all head off on our own ways? God, what- how the hell am I going to-'

Extra thick for ensured protection!

'How the hell am I going to deal with them gone?'

"Mattsun?"

He feels like his heart just catapulted into his mouth. "Jesus fucking- what?"

"We're all done here," Oikawa says, blinking over at a particularly garish purple box. He blushes spectacularly. "Unless there's still something you wanted to, um, purchase..?"

"No," Mattsun mumbles, mortified. He hadn't even meant to stare at all this. He had just happened to space out in front of them. "Let's go."

A hand on his arm stops him from stomping embarrassedly away. "Are you sure?" Oikawa asks quietly.

Mattsun stares at him. "I don't..." He doesn't what? Doesn't know? "I don't want to take this that fast," he blunders, trusting Oikawa will fill in the gaps of this conversation and understand what he means by that.

Oikawa visibly deflates with relief. "Oh, me neither," he says, and hooks his arm through Mattsun's, leading him out of the empty, still-aired store.

Mattsun thinks of the lingerie in Oikawa's closet. He wonders why Oikawa even owns that. He wonders who Oikawa would let see him in that. He wonders if he could be one of those people.

Then they're outside, and he decides it doesn't really matter.

Oikawa's warm where he's pressed against Mattsun's side, shoulder just barely lower than his own. Oikawa has the habit of making himself seem like the tallest person in the room. Even out here, where the two inches between them is more noticeable, Oikawa still commands and demands attention upon himself.

And Mattsun is going to give that to him no matter what Oikawa wants to do or wear.

 

"Wait... you haven't kissed Iwa-chan yet? Didn't you do that yesterday?" Oikawa's eyes are large and bright.

"No, actually I was... um... too busy watching you..." Mattsun rubs the back of his neck.

Oikawa crawls a little closer on the couch. Mattsun feels a myriad of shivers dance up his arms. His knees fall a little wider apart on their own. Oikawa fits nicely between them.

He is very, very close.

"Am I really so fascinating?" he chuckles breathily. He knows the answer.

"Yeah," Mattsun whispers, and Oikawa smirks before tapping underneath Mattsun's chin with a fingertip. His heart jumps in giddy anticipation.

Iwaizumi and Makki clank around in the kitchen, oblivious.

Oikawa presses his thighs around Mattsun's hips and his lips against Mattsun's pulse. Dust motes dance around his hair in the subtle green-gold glow from the sliding doors between them and the kitchen. The single bare bulb above their heads casts faint shadows down Oikawa's face, making it seem just a little longer.

Mattsun gently tips that face up to press their lips together.

"THEY'RE MAKING OUT!" Makki screams at the top of his lung and Mattsun accidentally bites Oikawa's lip so hard it starts bleeding. Iwaizumi swears loudly, fumbling with the carrot he's washing in the sink like it's a bar of soap, eventually shooting it from his fist straight onto his own foot. Makki positively shrieks with laughter.

Oikawa arcs backward and whines, dabbing at his bottom lip and wincing as his fingers come away sticky with blood. Some of it smears down his chin. He tries to lick at it.

Mattsun's stomach clenches strangely at the sight.

Oikawa's legs are still tight around his hips.

In the kitchen, Iwaizumi slowly picks the carrot up off the floor, gently places it in the sink, and suddenly whips a wet sponge with all his strength at Makki's stomach. It hits with a slapping sound that fills the whole cabin and only serves to make Makki laugh even more wildly, even though he's now wheezing and doubling over in pain.

Mattsun reaches up and pulls Oikawa's hands away from his face, staring at his bruised lip.

Makki wipes tears from his eyes and halfheartedly flings the sponge back up at Iwaizumi. He easily catches it.

Oikawa's eyes flutter between Mattsun's hands and face as he cautiously stills.

Iwaizumi grumbles to himself and goes back to washing the newly dirtied carrot. Makki stumbles upstairs, still giggling, to change out of his drenched shirt.

'I did that,' Mattsun thinks curiously to himself. He's neither disgusted nor particularly impressed with this fact. A simple interest, at the way the dark crimson lazily wells up on broken skin in neatly-spaced teeth marks, is all he holds.

Oikawa nervously licks at it, and Mattsun knows he's now stared long enough.

"Didn't know I could do that," he says simply, and releases Oikawa. Oikawa, however, doesn't pull away.

"Do you want to lick it off?" he blurts.

Mattsun's entire brain seems to stumble at that. "I- _what?_ "

"Well- you- some people are into that, and you seemed intrigued by the whole thing, so I wondered," Oikawa spills. He nervously laughs. It seems forced. "We can pretend I never brought it up."

Mattsun takes a second to consider licking Oikawa's own blood off of his mouth, and decides he's definitely not interested. "Yeah, let's forgot it and get you cleaned up," he says firmly.

Oikawa is clearly relieved. "Okay."

As Mattsun follow him to the bathroom, mostly because he still feels responsible for causing him harm and wants to see him patched up well, he wonders why Oikawa would offer such a thing if he wasn't even comfortable with it himself.

Unfortunately, he thinks he knows the answer already.

 

Makki is outside, and Mattsun can see him giving Oikawa his ten-thousandth "I'm sorry for making Mattsun bite your lip" kiss in the pale moonlight. Oikawa looks really good in Iwaizumi's hoodie. They're both enjoying the atmosphere of a pleasant summer night and each other's presence, swaying in slow circles to the ceaseless song of crickets, and Mattsun has no qualms with keeping that sliding door closed for now.

Iwaizumi yawns and comes up to stand next to him. He's got a new nick on his thumb. Mattsun wonders if he cut himself earlier preparing dinner, but didn't want to draw attention to himself.

He thinks that while Iwaizumi and Oikawa are similar in their need for attention in many ways, in this instance they are polar opposites.

"They look happy," Iwaizumi remarks quietly, leaning comfortably on Mattsun's arm. Mattsun slips it out from underneath him and around his shoulders instead. "What are your plans for tonight?"

Mattsun scratches his chin and squints, pretending to be deep in thought. "Hmm... I was thinking about kissing a very handsome man, but I should probably ask if he wants to..."

Iwaizumi reddens. He shifts so they're facing each other and settles his hands on Mattsun's hips, and takes a step forward so Mattsun has to go back, and keeps going until he's got Mattsun's back against the wall next to the staircase.

For all his boldness, he's too shy to look Mattsun in the eyes. It's incredibly endearing.

"I think this very handsome boy is probably okay with you kissing him," Iwaizumi murmurs, voice husky.

Mattsun's stomach swoops down to his knees before springing back up. He masks it with a small laugh and links his fingers behind Iwaizumi's neck.

Iwaizumi's mouth is _searingly_ hot.

Mattsun can feel every point of contact between them, the fingers hooking into his belt loops, the chest brushing his own, the flushed heat of Iwaizumi's neck against his hands, and the thrilling slickness of the tongue currently pressing purposefully to the roof of his mouth.

Mattsun can hardly keep his eyes open, but closing them makes everything else so intense he feels like his knees will give out.

Iwaizumi in insistent upon something. Mattsun finds out what it is when he finally lets a whimper slip free and Iwaizumi grins triumphantly against his mouth. Mattsun desperately presses back against him. Something is writhing in the hollow just below his stomach and it won't settle down.

Iwaizumi makes a bit of a surprised noise when Mattsun's hands leave his neck only to reappear on the bare skin of his back, rucking his shirt up. He doesn't stop, though. If anything, it only gets him more riled up. He pants harshly and trails heavy, wet kisses away from Mattsun's mouth to his neck.

His pauses then, lips resting against Mattsun's wild pulse. Mattsun can feel Iwaizumi's heartbeat against his own chest. It's going a mile a minute.

"Actually... this is enough for tonight," Iwaizumi exhales shakily.

Mattsun can't say he's outright shocked, but he is a little taken aback. "Do you want to go back to regular kissing?"

Iwaizumi mulls it over. Mattsun removes his hands from Iwaizumi's bare skin and lets him think. "Yeah. It's late though. Maybe we should just get ready for bed and go... make out until we get too tired to keep going once we're in there."

"Good plan," Mattsun hums, glancing outside to where Oikawa and Makki are still lost in each other.

Iwaizumi is hidden mostly in shadow back here, so far away from the glass-filtered luminescence of the outdoors. "I- uh- I want to just-" He's silent for a long moment. Pale, weak moonlight touches the tip of his nose like a trailing fingertip. Skeletal. "I don't think you should expect something like what just happened again. I mean- not never again, just not... soon."

Mattsun considers him. "Was it one of those things where everything was good until you hit a certain point and it suddenly just wasn't?"

"Yeah," Iwaizumi says, a tiny smile twitching on his cherry lips. "I just moved too fast."

"Mm." Mattsun looks down at his feet, not sure why he's now the one suddenly too shy to look at Iwaizumi. "I said kind of the same thing to Oi- to Tooru earlier. I'd like to take this slower than I think we have been."

"What do you mean?" Iwaizumi asks, not accusatory, just curious.

Mattsun scuffs his toes on the rough wood floor. "Well, it's just... most people wouldn't be making out like that just days into their new relationship, would they?"

"I don't know, would they?"

Mattsun blinks back up to him. "I-" He can't finish.

Iwaizumi smiles softly. "I get it. You think we're rushing things?"

"...yeah. I do. It makes me worried." Mattsun fidgets with his own fingers. "I don't know how strong of a foundation we really have to be doing the things we're doing."

Iwaizumi leans his shoulder against the wall next to him, arms loosely crossed. "There's not really a set of steps anyone has to follow when they're dating," he starts. "You don't have to have a certain amount of- of romance points, or something, in order to unlock things you can do with your partner. Or partners. You don't have to spend a certain amount of time with someone before it becomes acceptable to do something if you're both already comfortable with doing it. Does that make sense?"

Mattsun nods silently. It does. He just worries, almost incessantly, about that damn blurred line.

"Plus, we _know_ each other, Issei," Iwaizumi continues softly. "I've known Oikawa since before I can remember, you've known Takahiro for what, five years? And we've all known each other for three." He nudges Mattsun with his elbow. "Don't worry about not having strong foundations anymore, okay? We have them already."

Mattsun takes a moment to process, turning the words over and over, trying to find flaws in their rough, sincere surfaces. He finds none.

"Three years _is_ a long time," he concedes.

"It is," Iwaizumi smiles, and he reaches up to cradle the side of Mattsun's face and pull him down, and kisses him on the corner of his mouth.

It's the sweetest thing Mattsun's ever tasted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dropping the story here

**Author's Note:**

> abandoned work


End file.
